Empire State of Mind
by chocolate-moosey
Summary: There's nothing quite like building yourself up from nothing only to be dragged down again. KidLizPatti family-dynamic fic.
1. Concrete Jungle

"**Empire State of Mind"**

**By Chocolate Moosey**

**Chapter One**

**Concrete Jungle**

Liz pinched the two sides of the tiny plastic bag together between her thumb and forefinger, rubbing them together. It was a strangely silent fall night; the distant wails of police sirens and thrumming pulse of muscle cars blasting their bass had died off hours ago. In their wake remained only the skitter of dead leaves across the pavement and the occasional creak of empty machinery that left a hollow fear in her chest.

The blonde demon of Brooklyn was situated in her usual bed made of chipped metal and rotting wood: a deteriorating stationary carriage upon a dilapidated carousel. A handful of tattered blankets over her lap protected her from the icy chill that suggested a cold, early winter. Unceremoniously stuffing the bag of weed into her bra, Liz let her eyes skim the abandoned amusement park in search of her sister.

In all honestly, she hated the place with the silhouettes of crumbling rides and attractions—the vague suggestion of once-bright colors in the night prickling her vision. Everything was dark and intimidating, hulking or skeletal, much like the beastly city they ruled over with an iron fist.

With no immediate sign of Patti, Liz reached back into her shirt and extracted a lighter and a cigarette, shoving the sick between her teeth as she cupped her hand around the end, triggering the tiny flame. A slender form slung over the body of a blithely-grinning horse was illuminated before her, the younger Thompson sister's eyes glowing mirror-like as a blank smile curled across her face.

"_Fuckshit_!" Liz swore, jumping at the startling image and causing the small fire to blow out. "Don't _do_ that, Patti!"

"Do what?" The girl giggled in a broken little whisper. A cold chill ran down Liz's spine—there were occasions when her puppet-like sister scared her more than anything in the run-down theme park around her.

"Just sittin' there in the dark and not sayin' anything." Liz explained, re-igniting the lighter and spreading a warm, red glow over the tip of her cig. "Scares the fuckin' shit outta me, kid."

"Sorry." Patti offered in a sing-song voice, giggling under her breath as she scratched at the chipping paint on the back of the horse's head. "Hey sissy… what's in the bag that guy gave you?"

Liz's hand instantly flew to her breast, cupping around the treasure she'd stored there. "Somethin' good." She grinned wickedly, giving it a good pat. "Gotta find me a new pipe though… I think we got enough money left."

"Can I have some?" Inquired Patti innocently. Horror rose in the pit of Liz's stomach at the thought of her sister under the influence of the drug.

"_Hell_ no." She snarled, shifting back into her makeshift bed as she removed the cigarette from her lips, blowing a stream of smoke into the air. "Any idea how many people we had to rob to get this stuff? S'possedly this is real good shit according to Lio."

"So you're just gonna spend the night gettin' fucked up again, huh?" Patti asked sadly; Liz saw her slump forward onto the horse, defeated. Her heart clenched in agony.

"I don't _want_ to get high." Liz insisted, squeezing her cigarette between her teeth. "I _have_ to. Weed takes the edge off—makes it easier for me to protect my baby sister."

"Whatever." Patti shrugged, turning her now-disinterested gaze on the rusty entrance gate. 'THOMPSON' was spray-painted over the exit sign in bloated white and blue letters. "Guess you're gonna want that pipe now, huh?"

"Sure." Liz shrugged, groping around the carriage for her coat. Upon finding it, she slung it low over her shoulders and leapt from the carriage before her sister landed beside her in a crouch, eyes glittering mischievously. "Wanna head to Genie's Smoke Shop? It's kinda out of the way, but we probably have enough left to get a pipe from there—plus it's the only head shop open this late."

"Too expensive." Patti wrinkled her nose. "We needa eat in the morning, right sis?"

Liz grunted an affirmative, begrudgingly pulling the wad of bills from her shirt and counting in the low light. "I got twenty one. A little pipe will only cost seven, and I know you won't mind eating at McDonalds for breakfast."

To Liz's relief, a thrilled smile broke out over her sister's features. "If we go after ten, then we can get me a Happy Meal, hunh?!"

The elder blonde allowed a rare, soft grin to wash over her features as she secured an arm around her little sister. "Yeah, definitely."

* * *

Kid hated it.

He shook the left arm of his flawless white overcoat, as if it would help to remove the flowery stench of the girl's perfume. Why did women insist on _bathing_ in the god-awful stuff?! Even to a human nose it would wreak, but for him it _burned_ to inhale around her. He shuddered, thinking of the giggling mess of a girl he'd been forced to spend the evening with. She was a direct descendent of one of his father's favorite death scythes—one of the only women he'd ever worked with. According to the girl's pompous father, the family line was now renowned for the skilled scythes that they produced and were celebrated as absolute necessities to all the lower-ranking shinigami under his father's control. One of which he had become partners with and eventually married, producing an obscenely large amount of spoiled, rich scythes.

Her name was Rose and she had golden-brown eyes and pale features; her curly auburn hair was piled on top of her head in a cascading bun. Kid hated to admit it, but she was pretty—and more importantly, somehow managed to be symmetrical. Upon their introduction, he was vaguely impressed… but when she opened her mouth, all that had gone out the window.

"Ohmigawd, you must be _Kid_!" She'd squealed, latching to his left arm like a hungry, crazed leech. Rose had then proceeded to release the most obnoxious set of high-pitched giggles that Kid had ever heard in his fifteen years of life. His eye twitched, noting his asymmetrical state, but he forced himself to remain calm. Kid refused to let himself have a panic-attack in front of his father's esteemed family friends. "You're too cute! I don't know if you remember me, but we played together once when we were, like, four. I bit you, remember?"

'_That was you_?' Kid asked internally, vaguely recalling a beastly child launching herself across the restaurant to dig her teeth into his arms as his father gently pried them apart, laughing nervously about what a sweet couple they'd make when they were older. "Ah—ahah…"

"We're going to have so much _fun_ tonight!" Rose continued, nuzzling his arm affectionately. "We'll go to my favorite restaurant with my parents and then to see a musical on Broadway and—."

Thankfully, Kid had quickly learned to tune out the girl's incessant chattering, though it continued to nag at the tip of his ears like an obnoxious bee buzzing about in an endless quest for honey; it was painful managing to politely listen and contribute to the conversation, though it soon proved to be unnecessary. Throughout the limousine ride and dinner, Kid was hardly able to get a word in edgewise between Rose's cheery verbal diarrhea and her parents throwing about words such as 'arranged marriage' and 'divine fighting pair'.

Kid would've been frightened by such proposals if they weren't the hundredth ones he'd heard in his lifetime. It would start with the usual 'oh-she's-such-a-sweet-girl-and-I-knew-or-worked-with-her-relative-so-and-so-and-you-really-need-a-weapon-Kid-just-meet-her-one-date-that's-all-I-ask-pretty-please?' and it would end with kid buckling and taking the pretty scythe on a date to listen to her parents brag about their amazing lineage.

Most of the girls acted like Rose: clingy, breathless, and excited to have a potential meister or fiancé take her out on a date. Others were less than willing and had to be dragged from their homes kicking and screaming about how unfair it was to be forced into a relationship with some gothic freak that they didn't even know. Honestly, Kid had only actually liked one of any of the girls he'd met since he was thirteen: an older, tall girl with minor OCD that seemed to think and behave on his level. The attraction had been less than sexual, however, especially when she had taken him aside halfway through the date and admitted she was a lesbian and only interested in the arranged marriage to appease her parents.

While Kid had walked away from the situation with a friend, he had no interest on taking on the girl as his weapon. Since a young age, his father had attempted to coerce him into using a scythe—the staple weapon for a shinigami—and failed miserably at doing so. There had to be balance. There _had to be two_. But even if it were physically possible to wield two scythes simultaneously, there was no such thing as two identical scythes… or at least none Kid had heard of. The closest he had come to discovering them was a set of young twin boys in Canada that turned into pair scythes that would've been identical if it were not for the different amount of teeth on each of their blades. Their parents absolutely refused Kid's notion of sawing off one of their son's teeth in fear that it would affect his human body as well—that and the boys' constant bickering made it nigh impossible for them to resonate with one another.

The distraction of going over each of the awful arranged dates and the blind search for symmetrical partners aided Kid throughout the majority of his date with Rose Cullings-Blair and her insufferable chattering. To her credit, however, she was blessedly silent throughout the entire performance of Les Misérables, save for her soft sobs at the end. The worst part of the evening didn't come until they stood outside the doors of her parents' penthouse suite and Rose twirled around, hooking her index fingers around Kid's. He sighed in relief at the lack of an asymmetrical arm accessory, but dread pooled in his stomach at the sight of her sultry golden-brown eyes.

"I had a great time tonight." Rose purred, a tiny grin curling onto her lips. "You?"

"I enjoyed myself." He lied, forcing a little smile. "It was a pleasure meeting you."

"You as well." Her silvery little voice tickled his ears in a way that was completely _wrong_ as she tugged imploringly at his fingers. "I hope we can do it again sometime. Maybe even…" She leaned in dangerously close to him; eyes alight with something terrible to Kid. Her warm mint-scented breath spread over his lips. "More?"

Kid deflected her kiss with ease, turning his cheek at the last moment and cringing at the asymmetrical-ness of it all. The sacrifice was well worth it as she pulled back in almost an instant, hurt and confusion clouding her pretty features. Kid forced himself to place a chaste kiss in the center of her forehead. "Yes, we should definitely do a little something more next time. You can bring your boyfriend along, and I'll bring along _mine_." He lied smoothly, feeling a horrible little sense of schadenfreude at the waves of devastation crashing over her face. Playing gay was the fastest way to get out of an unwanted kiss, and he never regretted it. Word usually spread fast, and by the time he arrived home in Nevada, his father would be complaining of several families canceling dinner engagements with their daughters.

"You're…?" Whispered Rose, eyes twinkling with tears. Kid fought back a wince. She may have been annoying as hell, but she was far from a bad person and her intentions were, for the most part, good.

"It's nice to know I've made a new friend." He smiled, patting her shoulders and turning on his heel. As soon as he was out of what would be considered earshot for a human, he heard her devastated, melodramatic sobs carried throughout the long halls before the elevator doors shut before him.

And now he was traversing the streets of Brooklyn, attempting to shake off the scent of the girl who had clung to him the entire night. Somewhere amongst the constant twitters of his mind, he had become lost—not only in his thoughts, but physically as well. The surrounding neighborhood looked hardly similar to the place where his hotel was, and the abundance of mendicants and those who were most likely prostitutes eyeing him down suggested he was quite a ways away from the posh area he had originally been headed for.

"Hey sugar." A breathy voice carried over the cold air, accompanied by a steady stream of cigarette smoke. He turned on his heel to see an androgynous youth staring back at him with bright grey eyes. A platinum wig thrown haphazardly over his head and a tight vinyl miniskirt suggested that he was not attempting to pass for a man. "Anything I can help you with?"

Kid blanched, staring at the transvestite in horror before correcting his posture. "Yes, actually." He nodded. "I was actually looking for the Nu Hotel on Smith Street—."

"Well you're quite a bit lost, aren't cha?" The prostitute grinned, throwing the cigarette onto the sidewalk and grinding it out with a silver stiletto heel. "Don't worry, I'll getcha back safe and sound. All you hafta do is take a shortcut down that there alley," He gestured towards a suspiciously dark path, "And turn right. You'll get to Smith before ya know it and 'm pretty sure you can find your way from there."

"Thank you." Kid nodded hastily as he retreated. The transvestite laughed and waved him off.

"Just be careful not to stop and talk to strangers, kiddo!" He cried after him. "No tellin' what kind of Brooklyn demons you'll run into down there!"

* * *

Liz was shaking on a dumpster.

It wasn't the first time Patti had seen her do it, but Liz knew it didn't make it any less scary for her. The taller girl was huddled in on herself, hands secured around her upper arms as she was wracked with violent tremors that usually became retches. The shaking was not a side-effect of the drug, but brought on by the vomiting that was. Liz hated puking almost as much as she hated overdosing. It was obvious to see that the pot had been laced with angel dust after the first bowl Liz had smoked, but the higher she got, the less clear it became what she had actually taken into her system.

"You gonna be okay, sis?" Patti asked in a quiet tone, flinching when her sister fixed murderous eyes on her.

"Just shut up, okay?!" She snarled, dry-heaving off of the side of the dumpster. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_! I shouldn't have gotten so…"

Still trembling, Liz's hand shot back into her camisole, pulling out the empty bag and throwing it on the ground before returning for her safety-pot and a square of rolling paper. Her hands were clumsy as she fought through the angel dust-induced dizziness and rolled herself a sloppy blunt.

"Sis!" Came Patti's weak protest, but she was quickly silenced at a glare from her elder sister as she lit up and inhaled the smoke.

"It's just weed." She assured her sister. "Just weed. It'll help me calm down, I think… yeah."

Patti gave a distressed little whine, but was silent nevertheless. Liz took several deep breaths, alternating between air and her blunt. The trembling slowly subsided and the younger sister released a quiet sigh of relief as she watched her sister's eyes skim the area, landing with sudden inspiration on a lone silhouette crossing under a back light.

"Wouldja look at that?" Liz mumbled, a smile curling onto her lips slowly. "Right into our pretty little paws."

Patti glanced up, a half-crazed smirk blooming over her features as well as she assessed the boy passing under the dim lights. He was young—though probably a bit older than herself—and was dressed in a cashmere white trench coat complete with black slacks and dress shoes that gleamed even in the weak light. His jet-black hair was marred by three incomplete stripes.

Liz blinked, feeling a vaguely familiar buzz of energy. She was far from a meister when it came to being able to see and sense souls and soul wavelengths; but she had picked up a great deal from wielding her sister for so long. Whims and feelings about certain souls came second-nature to her, and she instantly recognized the powerful feeling from the times she and her sister scoured the high-end of Brooklyn.

"It's a fuckin' reaper, Patti." Breathed the elder sister, beginning to shake with excitement. "Reapers… they're _loaded_. All of 'em. Fuckin' _A_."

The elder girl leapt from the dumpster, swaying in place as she struggled to keep the blunt clutched between her teeth. "Liz—." Patti started hesitantly, but held her tongue when her sister raised a single hand."

"Shut up, Patti." She mumbled. "This just might be our big break."

"Reapers… they're loaded. All of 'em. Fuckin' _A_."

* * *

Kid was no fool. His senses were also sharp enough to pick up the scent of humans and marijuana smoke since he had just barely entered the back alley. The girls approached him slowly, confident that his pride would not allow him to run. They were correct, but also idiots for assuming they could rob a shinigami.

"Well lookie here, Patti." Smirked the elder of the two. She was tall with long, blonde hair and donned a horrifically asymmetrical camouflage top. A light blue parka was slung onto her elbows as she walked with dizzy grace in a circle around Kid. "Richie Rich has lost his way in the back streets."

The younger of the two cackled, her wide eyes flashing dangerously as she crouched close to the ground, tapping her knees in excitement. Kid stared at them, sure to keep his expression blank and unamused. They were just another road-block in his way back to the hotel. "What should we do, sis?"

Liz grinned. "You know the drill."

There was the unmistakable flash of blue-white light as the elder of the two transformed into a handgun, gleaming silver in her sister's grasp. "Neat trick." Kid scoffed, blinking calmly. "I've seen a thousand others that can do the same thing."

The short-haired blonde released a violent cackle as the gun within her grasp laughed softly. "Please. You've seen nothin' like this."

Twin balls of light illuminated the alley, and the older girl was blocking Kid's path again, holding her sister in her grasp. Kid's golden eyes widened. The guns were flawlessly identical. Not only that, but the sisters could wield each other with great ease. It was amazing. It was… _perfection_.

Kid replaced the mask of indifference within a split second as the elder girl smirked and pressed the muzzle of her younger sister to his cheek, inhaling deeply from her blunt as she swayed. "So how about you empty your pockets, pretty li'l reaper, and we'll let you go without harming a hair on your perfect head?"

Kid struck too fast for Liz to react even if she hadn't been high, driving a fist into her stomach and knocking her back several paces. The blonde gave a half-swear as the breath was knocked out of her, firing several shots that whizzed by Kid harmlessly as she staggered backwards, heaving wildly.

"Little _fucker_!" She screamed, continuing to fire rapidly. He stepped out of the way of each shot of pink soul wavelength that lit the alley, cocking his eyebrow at the infuriated girl.

"You finished?" He inquired calmly, adjusting the lapels on his coat. The girl wavered on the spot, eyes swimming in and out of focus as she fell to her knees and gave a horrible wretch, causing kid to step back as her sister clattered to the ground.

The stench of vomit reached Kid quickly and he covered his mouth and nose with both hands as the girl heaved and trembled and fell to one side. The alley was silent for a good several seconds before the gun at her side burst into light and became the smaller blonde, her sister. Trembling hands grasped the still girl's shoulders, shaking her desperately.

"LIZ!" Cried the smaller of the two, the horror evident in her voice. "_Liz_! Wake up!"

Kid stared, uncertain of what he had just seen as the smaller of the two turned her horrified blue eyes towards him. They were swelling with tears by the second, and were locked onto his imploringly. He wondered if it were a trick to get him to approach to help in order for the elder girl to land a shot; but the very real terror in the younger girl's eyes and the vomit on the pavement told another story.

"Liz… _Lizzy_…" The younger of the two whispered, continuing to shake her sister's shoulders. "Please wake up, Liz… please? Who's gonna protect me from Daddy…?" Her voice cracked brokenly and Kid's eyes widened a fraction at the dark implications behind the statement. The girl seized with sudden horror and began to shake her sister even harder. "LIZ! FUCKIN' WAKE UP! DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE ME! _Please_… don't go now." She whispered the later, curling around her sister's frame as her pleading eyes traveled back to Kid's aureate. There was nothing said between them; just the echo of the smaller blonde's pleas as she cried and trembled, pulling her sister to her chest.

And in that dark alley that smelled of vomit and drugs and garbage, Kid made a decision.

* * *

For the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, Liz awoke in a warm bed. It smelled faintly of fabric softener and something sweet. Her eyes fluttered open as she sat up and realized that she was in a blessedly comfortable bed—not a creaky mattress in a motel room she'd managed to rent for herself and her sister. Pale morning light streamed in from tall windows that spread nearly floor-to-ceiling, illuminating the white décor of the classy hotel room. Beside her, Patti was sleeping peacefully beneath the light covers, a cat-like grin on her lips; and several feet away from her, curled in a black armchair, was the reaper.

Liz scanned the small room, her head spinning in confusion. Her body was still prickling with the aftereffects of the angel dust, and she was unsure if what she was experiencing was a hallucination. But the bed was too soft, the smells to gentle and real, and the sleeping boy's soft snores all too genuine to be a hallucination. Hallucinations were freakish, twisted visions of the world around her with all the stuff of nightmares leaking in. This was far too genuine to have come from the dark corners of her mind.

Her eyes floated to where her coat was folded perfectly upon the desk. Her boots were set out juxtapose to the chair, Patti's smaller ones set out on either side. Realization blossomed in her mind. This was the _reaper's_ hotel room—_his _bed she and her sister were sharing. He had probably folded her coat and set out their boots in that odd matter. Liz pushed back the covers, realizing with horror that she was only wearing a bra and jeans. With a soft squeak, she covered herself, blushing brightly as she realized the reaper was staring at her with calm golden eyes.

"We had to take it off to clean it." He explained. "There was vomit on it, so it had to be washed."

"A-ah…" Liz nodded stiffly, feeling her cheeks burn. "Thanks."

"Don't worry, I didn't look." He said offhandedly. "Even so, they're just breasts."

Liz stared at him for a long moment, contemplating if she should hit him or thank him for his seemingly-immaculate kindness. The boy seemed nearly asexual with his impartial gaze, which he slowly averted, fixing it on the window as he parted his lips into a yawn. "If you'd like a bath or a shower, by all means, help yourself." He instructed, gesturing towards the bathroom. Liz nodded and crossed the room, watching the reaper closely as he pulled a book off of the desk and began to thumb through the pages casually. After scrubbing herself clean, she pulled on the soft complimentary robe hanging in the bathroom and combed the knots out of her hair, still numb with disbelief as she entered the room once more.

Patti was sitting cross-legged on the bed, cheerfully chatting away with the reaper as if they hadn't tried to rob them the night before. He fixed a tired smile on the blonde as Patti leapt to her feet and bounced in place.

"Sis!" She shrieked. "Sis! This is Death the Kid! He's a shiny-gami!"

"Shinigami." Kid corrected, slightly frustrated. "It's more or less the word for reaper in Japanese."

"That's an odd name." Liz remarked, sitting on the bed as she folded her clothes in her lap. Patti plopped down beside her, giggling manically.

"It's a nick-name, actually." He admitted with an indifferent shrug. "Very few know my true name for security purposes. Most just call me 'Kid', though."

"I'm Liz Thompson; Elizabeth, actually." She explained before gesturing towards Patti. "This is my little sister, Patricia—."

"Just call me Patti!" The girl cheered, hopping up onto the bed before bouncing several times.

"D-don't do that!" Kid cried, bolting upright and over to the sheets, which he began to tug at desperately. "You've already messed it all up! I had the sheets _perfectly_ symmetrical."

"Oooooh, sowwy!" Patti giggled, flinging herself off of the bed and skipping towards the bathroom. "I'm gonna take a shower, okie dokie day?"

Before either her sister or Kid could reply, the door slammed behind her, leaving Liz in silence with the odd-mannered reaper. Kid heaved a sigh and took to his feet, collecting the book from before off of the desk.

"Uhm—." Liz was abruptly cut off as there was a light tap at the door.

"Room service?" An accented voice chimed and Kid took to his feet, thanking the maid at the door quietly as he accepted the freshly laundered camisole and handed it to Liz.

"Thanks." She mumbled as he turned on his heel. For a moment she wondered what he was doing as he fixed his eyes on the wall, folding his arms behind his back and clearing his throat. With a start, Liz realized he was averting his eyes so she could change. Rapidly, she stripped of the bath robe and pulled the shirt on over her bra, yanking her belt into place.

"Miss Thompson?" The boy inquired, finally turning on his heel as soon as Liz was finished.

"It's okay, you can call my Liz." She corrected, sheepishly scratching at the back of her damp tresses.

"Liz." Kid nodded, correcting himself. "I… ah. I was wondering—."

"If you're going to ask me out, don't bother." Liz scoffed, resting her elbow on her knee and chin in her palm. "I'm not really a settle-down type of girl, and besides—I think you're a bit out of my social range."

"No!" He started, grasping his hands earnestly before him. "It… this is going to sound like an odd request, but…"

"But?"

"May I brush your hair?" He blurted out, golden eyes dashing away in embarrassment. Liz blinked several times in amazement as the younger boy struggled to fight back a blush before she burst into amused laughter.

"_Brush _my _hair_?" Liz snorted. "Seriously?! You give us a room and a shower and—and all you want in return is to _brush my hair_?!"

"N-no!" Kid stammered, slamming his hands on his hips and continuing to turn an array of pink and red colors. "I—."

"No." Liz shook her head, still smirking as the laughter died in her chest. "No, no. It's just that I expected you to want something big in return."

"I do have a proposal." He said stiffly, picking up the hairbrush and gesturing towards the seat before the desk with a mirror hanging above it. "But you don't have to accept it. Will you sit?"

Liz grinned and pushed herself off of the bed. "I'll humor you. 'Sides, I don't think anyone's brushed my hair since my mom died."

"Your mother passed away?" Kid inquired, brushing her damp bangs back. Liz shifted awkwardly, folding her arms over her chest in a way that made the strange boy's eye twitch.

"I don't like to talk about it." She mumbled, averting her eyes from the reaper's reflection. To her surprise, he pressed no further, only continued to comb through her hair, alternating between the tips of his fingers and the brush. Just as he finally reconstructed her part for the eighth time, he paused, golden eyes falling to the floor.

"My mother died as well. I was very small." He confessed. Liz turned to him in shock.

"Really?"

"Yes." Kid nodded. "I don't remember much of her, nor do I know how she died." He pursed his lips. "But ever since then my father has tried to erase every notion of her ever existing. I have no pictures or other mementos of her other than what little clothing I could salvage from their closet."

Liz frowned, her fingers flying to her pocket of her parka where she kept the picture of herself, her sister and her mother rolled into a tight tube. "Nothing, hunh?"

"Nothing."

"That'd be pretty horrible." The blonde continued as Kid resumed brushing her hair. "I mean, Mom meant the world to us. When our dad walked out on us, I was just seven and Patti was only four. Our mom did everything she could to keep us fed and clothed… even married a guy whose guts she hated."

Kid stiffened, his grip tightening around the hairbrush. "Your sister said something about your father hurting you without you there."

Suddenly, Liz was on her feet, whirling around and grabbing Kid by the collar of his white dress shirt. "Don't you _ever_ bring that up, _you got it_?!" She snarled, giving him a firm shake. "'_Specially_ not in front of Patti. You _never _heard what she said, _understand_?"

"I understand." Kid said calmly, gently removing Liz's hands from the front of his shirt with surprising ease. "I can tell it's a sore subject, and I thank you for opening up to me."

Liz scoffed, retracting her arms and throwing herself back into the seat. "Whatever."

Just as Kid was about to make another comment, the door to the bathroom was thrown open, and Patti pranced out, sopping wet and wrapped in nothing but an oversized towel.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Why hello there everyone! Chocolate Moosey (formerly known as Chocolate Wolfie) here with another Soul Eater fanfiction! This one was originally supposed to only be a oneshot, but lo and behold, it got blown into a bit bigger propotion than that. I'm not sure how long its going to be; but the story will be at least six or seven chapters of this length. I Have about three and a half more written, and I'll try to have them edited and posted every weekend.

As for notes on the actual story, this started on a whim over Christmas break and was fueled by my general insanity and passion for writing to become something of a much greater calliber. I really love Kid, Liz, and Patti and I wanted to play with the dynamics between the three and how they shift over time-- as well as how my use of point of view can reflect that. I also wanted, more than anything, to portray them as a family, which I hope I captured.

Also, the pacing for this story will be a bit rocky in the middle-- things will jump around a bit. I'll try to keep a date assigned to each time-jump to make things easier on the readers, if you're confused. Just to let you know, this part of the story takes place **October 2007**. Please forgive me for the strange jumps in time to come, as well the a very gentle use of several OC's who will not be part of the main story, but used to make the character's motives and actions clear.

Last but not least, please remember to enjoy! I write not only for my own enjoyment, but to bring smiles to other's faces. Much love, you guys!


	2. Backstabber

"**Empire State of Mind"**

**Chapter Two**

**Backstabber**

For some reason, he didn't scare her like other boys did.

There was something about the shiny-gami that gave her the same snuggly sense of family only Liz and her mom had ever given her, which was weird because she had just met him. Though the look in his eyes when he had carried—_carried_! Who the heck had known such a little guy could be so scary-strong!?—her sister back to the hotel with them had betrayed a kind soul lying beneath his cool exterior.

She could tell he was like a lot of the gangster guys Liz had to suck up to in order to get her weed fix. They were always thugs on the outside, in their mannerisms and in the way they dressed; but they were just normal people inside of those shells. Kid was like that, too. He looked and acted the part of a well-bred reaper, but his quirky ways of arranging things so they were the same on each side, his super-duper strength, and the care with which he treated Liz and herself… there was an entirely different person under there.

"Can we get McDonalds, Mister shiny-gami?" Patti quipped, trotting behind the young man as they traveled down the hotel's narrow halls.

"Shinigami." He corrected swiftly. "And absolutely not. Do you know what kind of chemicals and preservatives they put into that stuff?" Kid shuddered visibly. "Disgusting. No, I'll be treating you to breakfast here."

"Ooooh." Patti grinned, hopping to a halt as he pushed open the glass double-doors. "That's okay, then! I love eatin' at restaurants."

"Are you sure?" Liz asked skeptically as they entered the hotel's restaurant. The two roughly-dressed girls were quickly pinned by a dozen or so glares from patrons and waiters alike. "I mean, it's probably real expensive here and, uhm, people are kind of staring."

Kid shrugged. "What you wear is your own business." He paused, and then turned to look them over with a critical eye. "Though I can't say I approve of your attire in the least, so we'll have to fix that once you hear my proposal. Table for three?"

"Right away, sir." The hostess nodded, ripping her eyes away from the two sorely out-of-place girls and gathering up three menus.

"What's this _proposal_ thing you keep talking about?" Liz demanded, flopping down into her seat as Patti plopped down beside her. It was big and squishy and red, like the arm chair she'd had back at home, only a lot nicer. She poked at it bemusedly as she flipped open the menu and began to read.

'Le pain grillé._ Is that like grilled pain or something_?!' Patti grinned, her hands tightening around the menu. "I wanna eat grilled pain!"

Liz and Kid paused in their conversation, staring at the girl in a mixture of confusion and slight horror. Kid cleared his throat and turned his attention back to Liz.

"As I was saying," He resumed. "You don't have to accept my offer if you don't wish to—."

"Just get on with it." Liz scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder and glancing out the window. Patti blinked and smirked wickedly. So Liz liked this weird boy! Patti could tell because Liz never listened to someone's deals unless she liked him—she used to listen to her boyfriend Lio all the time before they'd gotten into a bighuge fight and broken up. Other than him, there were no 'deals' or 'propositions' in Liz and Patti's life—if one ever came up, Liz would just tell Patti to turn into a gun, smack them upside the head with her, and run off with whatever they wanted. But that wasn't an option this time around; though Liz wasn't lookin' at him, she was obviously hearing the shiny-gami out.

"—to be my weapons."

"Excuse me?" Liz turned to face him again, arching an eyebrow.

"I would like you two to be my weapons." Kid repeated himself calmly and clearly from his seat at the head of the small table. Patti blinked wide, blue eyes at him as she swung her feet above the ground. "I can tell you're not in an ideal position at the moment, and I assure you that you'd be benefitted greatly. You will have fine living quarters in my father's estate, free schooling at a prestigious academy, and access to—."

"We're not interested."

Kid froze, fixing his incredulous golden gaze on her. "Excuse me?"

"We're. Not. Interested. You said it yourself: we didn't have to agree." The elder of the two frowned, pushing up from her seat. "Patti's only meister is me, and my only meister is Patti. Not only that, but we _own_ this city." She spread out her arms, as if to indicate where their kingdom lay. "We can have anything we want, and we're not interested in being your charity case, right Patti?"

Patti blinked, looking from her sister to Kid; he had a funny face on, like he'd just crapped his pants or something—though even Patti doubted that someone like him would ever do that. Still, it looked funny, so she laughed.

"Quit it." Liz snapped, seizing her gently by the shoulder. "We're getting out of her, okay Patti?"

"O-kay!" She sing-songed, jumping out of her seat. "Do I still get to eat pain, though Lizzy?"

"Yeah, sure, anything you want." She mumbled, averting her eyes from Kid, who was still staring at the place she'd been, his entire body stock-still. "I think I broke him. Probably hasn't ever been refused a thing in his life." She began to walk out of the restaurant, ignoring the stares of the people around them. "Come on, let's go."

Patti glanced over her shoulder at her sister, before reaching over to poke the shiny-gami's hand. His menu flopped onto the table and his eye twitched. Patti laughed.

"_Patti_!"

"Com-iiiiing!"

* * *

She'd rejected him.

Even as he dressed himself for that evening's date, Kid couldn't seem to accept the simple fact. His hands went through the motions: plucking lint off of himself, tugging his clothing into place so that he was perfectly symmetrical—save for those damned lines of course—opening his date-book to read the small snippet of information his father had scribbled down. However, his head was in a completely separate place. He could hardly process anything as he climbed into the limousine waiting for him in front of the hotel.

'_Sarah Tsukuda, age 16. Her grandfather was my Scythe from 1945-1969 He's a very traditional Japanese man and would've preferred a proper miai process, so you're gonna have to deal with sitting with me and her parents back home in the bastardization of the ceremony if this all works out, lol.'_

Did he seriously write 'lol'?

'_Hidetoshi tells me she's a very sweet and quiet girl, so I think you'll like her—she's also a scythe like him, too! Just be sure to be super polite. Love ya! Dad_'

The limo went over a speed bump and Kid snapped his date book shut, folding it into his left coat pocket. Finding his right pocket empty, he removed the book and shoved it directly under his seat. The side door swung open, the driver staring at Kid imploringly as he climbed out.

"Pick you up here at eleven, then?" He asked, his face morphing into a smirk. "Unless ya get lucky, of course."

"I'll have my cell on in there's a change of plans." Kid replied in a blasé tone, ignoring the driver's comment. "Thank you."

The doorman opened the golden-trimmed glass door before him, and he entered the lobby of the luxurious apartment building. Finding it quite harmoniously balanced with the reception desk in the middle and a set of leather chairs on either side of the room, Kid smiled. This would be fine. Wonderful. He would shake himself of the experience with the two _amazingly symmetrical and perfect, awesome once-in-a-lifetime change to wield oh God how had he fallen to such a level that a set of street urchins wouldn't accept his proposal _guns.

Shake it right off.

He was kneeling in the middle of the lobby, trembling with contained rage and tears.

"You wouldn't happen to be Kid, would you?" A timid voice inquired. Kid perked up at his name, turning towards a set of four people sitting in the leather chairs to his left. A brunette girl dressed in a black cocktail dress was staring at him with big, brown eyes. On her right was a woman with similarly-colored curly hair and on her left was a tall, serious-faced man of Japanese descent. Across from them was an older man, who Kid instantly recognized from the photos lining the wall of his father's study.

"Kid-kun!" The man grinned as he rose from the couch, leaning his weight on a cane. "Ah, you are a spitting image of your father! What are you doing on the floor?"

"Uhm." Kid began, but was seized by his shoulder and promptly pulled to his feet.

"Father, don't man-handle the boy." Mr. Tsukuda frowned. Hidetoshi scoffed and hobbled back over to the seats, dragging Kid along with him.

"If he's anything like his father, he's durable." Hidetoshi frowned a bit. "_Very_ durable. Your old man walked off any more roofs, Kid-kun?"

"Excuse me—?"

"Of course he has. Wouldn't think he was a shinigami unless he'd wielded me myself. Now!" He pulled Kid down beside him, gesturing towards the waiflike girl sitting across from them, sandwiched between her parents. "This is my son Kenichi and my daughter-in-law Lucy—and the lovely young lady between them is my lovely granddaughter Sarah."

"You said 'lovely' twice, Jii-san." The teen mumbled, her face turning the shade of a strawberry. Kid stared at her: her clothing seemed symmetrical enough, and there were no marks distinguishing one side of her body from the other (or that he could see), no lopsidedness—

Save for the _God-awful_ left part of her hair, accented by a pale pink camellia on the right.

He shuddered and forced himself to look past the imperfections. There was no way he was having a breakdown in front of a potential weapon… not after the incident at the Cheesecake Factory in California that had left thousands of dollars in damage and a very mentally traumatized scythe.

"Is everything alright, Kid-kun? Your eye is twitching…" Sarah began in her pretty little voice, brown eyes clouding in worry.

"I'm perfectly fine." He replied with practiced ease. "Just a nervous tick." His forced laugh was echoed by her parents. Hidetoshi slapped him in the back with a light cackle.

"She's so pretty that she's already got your hands sweating, eh?" The old man grinned. "Good, good. Now off with you two; there's a delicious Japanese restaurant that we frequent right down the street and it'll get packed if you don't hurry."

"_Father_!"

"_Jii-san_!"

Sarah's face had reached the color of a fire truck and Kenichi looked ready to blow a gasket while his wife sighed in exasperation.

"_That wasn't the plan, Father_." Kenichi scowled, beginning to speak in Japanese. "_I want to meet this boy first; we don't know what kind of a person he is._"

"A fine one, if he's anything like my meister." Hidetoshi shrugged, using English. "I doubt he'd try to set my lovely granddaughter up with his son if this young follow was any sort of rebel or a player. I trust Kid-kun with Sarah completely."

"I'm not lovely." Sarah was mumbling, completely forgotten in the conversation alongside Kid as her mother interjected.

"Ken, calm down; and stop speaking Japanese, he's probably fluent anyway." Lucy glanced over at Kid before setting her eyes on Kenichi once more. "You'd have no problem with this if he were just another boy from her school."

"Well, another boy from her school wouldn't be a prospective husband!"

"_Daddy_!"

"Well, it's true." Ken frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "I just don't think it's appropriate for it to be treated like a date and not a possible arranged marriage."

"No one's getting married." Lucy scowled over her daughter's head.

"Then what would be the point?" Kenichi argued, meeting his wife's gaze.

"To meet a prospective meister, of course." His wife replied in a cool tone. "That's how we met, wasn't it?"

"And how did _that_ night end?"

"Annnnd that's quite enough." Hidetoshi heaved a sigh, pulling himself and Kid up from the couch. Sarah had her face buried in her hands, her cheeks so luminescent scarlet that they nearly showed through her fingers. Hidetoshi lightly urged her to her feet, her parents still glaring at each other, unphased. "Sarah-chan, put on your coat and bring Kid-kun here to the restaurant while your parents relive their first meeting."

"O-of course." The girl nodded, unfolding her black pea coat from her lap and sliding it over her shoulders. Kid calmly extended an arm, glancing wearily back at her parents as they resumed their bickering. Hidetoshi fell gracelessly back into the leather couch, winking playfully at Kid as the couple went.

Once they broke into the cool fall air, Sarah buried her face in her hand.

"I am_ so _sorry…" She moaned in embarrassment. "Both of my parents like to think they know my best interest, and their views seem to conflict a lot."

"It's fine." Kid sighed as they moved down the quiet street. "I don't believe we were properly introduced, however. I'm Kid, by the way. It's a pleasure, Miss Tsukuda."

"Please, call me Sarah." The girl blushed. "All my teachers call me Miss Tsukuda."

"You go to school nearby?" He inquired.

"Uhn, at the New York branch of the DWMA." Sarah nodded; Kid assumed she was referring to Shibusen's common English nickname. "It's_ very _small, however. As I've heard, most students move from all over North America to Death City in Nevada in order to attend."

Kid stopped and stared at the girl. "So you go to Shibusen without a meister?"

"Shibu—?" She blinked before her eyes widened in realization. "Oh! That's what they call the DWMA in Japanese, right?"

"Yes."

"Ah, I'd wondered about that. Jii-san told me Lord Death was half-Japanese like my dad." Sarah nodded to herself. "But no, I have a meister, her name is Paige. We're already seventy-five souls strong."

Kid frowned. "So you'd be uprooting yourself from your meister in order to partner with me?"

Sarah blushed again and averted her eyes as they entered the restaurant and approached the host. "Hello, I'm Sarah Tsukuda. I should have my name down under a party of—."

"Two, yes. Right this way, ma'am."

They were led through the main dining hall and through a set of sliding rice paper doors into a private dining room with a low table. As soon as the hostess closed the door behind her, Sarah gathered up the kettle resting in the center of the table and proceeded to pour both Kid and herself a cup of tea.

"The question you asked about uprooting myself," The brunette began, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "I… I'd like to think of it as more of a transfer than an uprooting. A lot of weapons go on to pair up with reapers after they become death scythes; so I'd like to think of it as that."

"But they still work with their meisters." Kid explained. "And ultimately stay in touch with them. You'd be moving to Death City with me if we became partners, and it's quite a ways away from New York."

"I know that." Sarah mumbled into her tea cup. "I know. But my grandfather has always been so excited having me work with you. He _loved_ working with Lord Death and always said I'd be a perfect match for his son—even if we didn't get married."

"So you're doing this for your grandfather's benefit?" He asked. Sarah gave a tiny sigh and nodded.

"I suppose so. I just… I want him to be _happy_." She admitted, circling the rim of her cup with the tip of her finger. "I want my parents to be happy, too. If I become _the_ death scythe of the up-and-coming Lord of Death, it would make them _so _proud." A tiny smile pulled onto her lips. "I like it when people are happy. That's why I enjoy working with Paige to protect everyone from kishin eggs. I can tell it makes everyone happy when they know that they're safe."

Kid felt the tips of his mouth pulling into a little smile as well. "So you try to please everyone save for yourself?"

"It makes _me_ happy when _others_ are happy." Sarah insisted earnestly. Kid shook his head slightly.

"What about your meister? Paige, was it?" He asked, she seemed to deflate a bit. "I don't think she'd be very pleased to see you go."

"I've talked to Paige, and she's just excited as I am." The brunette admitted, reaching up to adjust her camellia. Kid had a horrible urge to reach over the table and remove it, and then proceed to fix her part. "But we're not only partners, we've been best friends since we were really, really little… I know she'd be sad if I left, even if she didn't admit it."

"I've been told the bond between meister and weapon is supposed to surpass that between families or even a couple in love." Kid mused in reply. "I have no idea if that's true or not, but I'd like to think that being partners _does _have a deep value. Your souls match one another after all, which is truly remarkable when you consider it."

"It is!" Sarah exclaimed, her brown eyes lighting up. "The first time I resonated with Paige, it was _amazing_! It was like… like…" She froze, giggled, and composed herself. "Sorry, I get really excited whenever I talk about stuff like this."

"I can tell you are very close with your meister." Kid smiled gently, sipping from his own tea cup. "And I don't think I could bring myself to break that bond, Sarah."

The girl looked down at her lap sheepishly. "I was afraid you were going to say something like that… I guess we're not going to be partners after all, huh?"

"No reason we can't enjoy dinner together." Kid smiled; he could tell she was bit crestfallen. "I'd very much like to remain your friend, Sarah. In all honesty, you're one of the best arranged dates I've ever had."

Sarah looked up at him with stunned eyes. "R-really?!"

"Yes." He nodded. "You wouldn't believe the experiences I've had."

"Like what?"

"Well, there was this one incident not too long ago, with a terribly obnoxious, putrid-smelling girl—."

* * *

He was waiting for her back at her loathed palace.

Liz scowled as soon as she and Patti crossed under the archway leading into their abandoned fun park. He was sitting on the edge of the carousel, dressed in his usual flooded jeans and black tee shirt, despite the chilled weather. Icy blue eyes bored into her own dark blue as he smirked and stood. Patti growled, pulling her Happy Meal toy close to her breast as if she feared he would snatch it away from her.

"Benvolio Park." The elder of the two snarled, folding her arms across her chest. "What brings you here, shitface?"

The white-haired teenager raised his hands in a peaceful gesture, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Truce, truce! I come in peace, Lizzy."

"Tell me what the fuck you want—no. Better yet, just get the _fuck_ out." Liz demanded, pointing towards the exit furiously. "I don't want to take any more of your shit, Lio. We're through. We've_ been_ through."

"Awe, c'mon sweetie." Lio crooned, slinking up towards her and circling her and Patti, arms still raised. "Who told you who deals the best stuff in town, sister?"

"'_Best stuff_' _my ass_!" Liz spat, her fingers flickering with energy at she was tempted to twist them into a barrel of a gun. "Do you_ know _how fucked up I got on that shit?!"

"Not my fault you couldn't handle it, sugar." He shrugged, still holding his hands up in a false suggestion of surrender. "You have to wean yourself onto the good stuff. Can't go and smoke twenty bowls of that shit—_heeeey now_."

He backed up several steps as Liz pointed her sister towards him. "Fuckin' _leave_, Lio."

"Look, look, Lizzy! Baby, sugar, sweetheart!" He listed off in quick succession. "Don' be mad with me! The break-up was mutual! I just wanted to say I was sorry."

"You said sorry, now fuck off."

"Testy, testy!" Tutted Lio, shaking his head. "Look, I'm sorry we had a fight, and I'm sorry I didn't warn you about the herb. I just wanted to make it up to you."

Liz cocked an eyebrow. "Howso?"

"I found out where the Capulet's hideout was." He flashed a triumphant grin. "In a warehouse down by the old docks."

Liz's incredulous blue gaze met his own icy one. "Lio. You seriously expect me to just _listen _to you? Why the hell should I trust you, anyway?" She scowled. "You took my money to buy yourself drugs when you said you needed it for _food_. As far as I know, the entire Capulet gang is sitting in that warehouse waiting to ambush us. Give me _one_ good reason that_ I_ should listen to _you_."

Lio averted his eyes, training them on the ground. "Because I'm sorry." He muttered. "Lizzy, I was so wrecked up out of my _mind_ when I took that money from you, baby. I literally had no idea what I was doing."

"Well sorry isn't gonna cut it—."

Lio reached into his pocket and removed a wad of twenties, holding it out in front of Liz's face. The girl stared at it suspiciously before dropping Patti, who promptly transformed back into her human form, glaring at Lio and then at his money scrutinizingly.

"It's all the money I took from you; and then some." The white-haired teenager mumbled, thumbing at his nose awkwardly. "It took me a long time to get that back, Liz—'an none of it is fake or anything, you can check it with one of those counterfeit pen things if you want." Cold eyes dropped to the ground once more. "I'm really sorry. I really am. I never meant to hurt someone like you, Liz… you're such a sweet girl, and someone like you shouldn't be out on the streets."

"Sweet talker." Liz mumbled, shoving the wad of cash down her shirt. "You know just how to get at me. Fine; we'll go to the damn docks. You just better hope the Capulets aren't there waiting for us, Lio, or we'll fry all their asses _and_ yours."

The light-haired teenager beamed, snaking an arm around Liz's shoulders. "I swear on my life Liz, there's no Capulets waiting for you there."

* * *

Sarah was a sweet girl.

Kid had to admit to himself that he liked her a great deal more than any of the other prospective weapons he'd met, despite her asymmetry. However, it was nothing the removal of that damned camellia and a quick change of her part couldn't fix.

"I know this place is a little creepy." The brunette was saying as she brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "But no one ever comes to these old warehouses because of the security swarming around."

"Wouldn't we get in trouble for loitering?" Kid inquired as they approached the end of the pier—the silver moon glittered in the small waves, so different from the grinning yellow sliver back in Death City.

"They don't mind as long as you don't try to break in or vandalize any of the warehouses." She explained. "Plus Paige and I come around here quite a bit to hunt kishin eggs, so security knows us."

"I see." He nodded, watching the waves lap at the pier.

"Kid." Sarah said very softly, looking down at the water as well. "I—I know you said you didn't want to uproot me, but…" She raised her brown eyes to his gold. "I _really _like you, Kid. You're a good guy and," She paused, gently taking his hand in hers. "I'd be willing to sacrifice my life here if I could have the honor of being your scythe."

Sarah smiled at him shyly, her cheeks dusted rosy red. Kid wondered what it would be like to live forever with this girl as his weapon and his wife—he didn't even know her. But maybe he should take his chance with such a sweet girl, he supposed, he would let her into his life while he had the chance, appease both their families and learn to work with a scythe, despite his disorder.

'_I suppose I should kiss her now_.' He thought to himself, tightening his grip around her hand.

"FUCKIN' LIAR!"

"PATTI!"

Rapid fire sounded through the docks, illuminating the hollow windows of a single storehouse.

Kid dropped Sarah's hand, turning towards the source of the noise.

"I'm sorry, Tsukuda-san."

Because his decision had already been made.

* * *

"So this is where the Capulet's hideout is?" Liz asked, sliding the heavy door of the warehouse open.

"_Stinky_." Patti made a pace, pinching her nose. "Did they use to store fishies in here?"

"Yeah, somethin' like that." Lio shrugged as the three of them moved in. Liz scanned the empty storeroom, wrapping her arms around her torso. Something didn't feel right.

"This place is fuckin' creepy." She mumbled. "Not to mention pretty empty. I'm surprised, Lio—you actually didn't lead us into a trap."

"Of course." The white-haired teen grinned smoothly. "I'd never lie to you, baby."

"But there's one thing I wanna know."

"Hnn?"

"This place looks _too_ empty." Liz observed, turning to face her ex. "It looks like it's been abandoned for years."

Lio merely smiled.

"This isn't the Capulet's hideout, is it?" She asked, voice low as she dropped her eyes and tightened her fists at her side.

"Nope."

"Then what—?"

She was promptly cut off as a blaring white light flared into existence, blinding her momentarily. Beside her, Liz heard Patti cry out in shock as a warbled voice called throughout the warehouse. She recognized the familiar sound: a police intercom.

"Elizabeth and Patricia Thompson. You are under arrest for two hundred and thirteen counts of theft at gunpoint, three counts of grand theft auto, various counts of misuse of a human weapon, and suspected drug possession." The voice informed them. Liz squinted through the spotlight to see row after row of dark silhouettes filing through the gaping doors. "Do NOT take on your weapon form. Place your hands on your head and get down on the ground. We have you surrounded."

"You fucker…" She mumbled, hearing Lio's soft laughter beneath the commotion.

"FUCKIN' LIAR!" Patti shrieked, her fingers twisting into the sleek barrel of a gun.

"PATTI!" Liz shouted, lunging to stop her sister; but it was too late. The police raised their guns and took aim—the clatter of bullets rang throughout the warehouse, echoing shrilly in Liz's ears as she leapt over her sister, shielding her from the fire. But despite the abundance of stray bullets, the hit never came.

"That was a warning shot." The authoritative voice explained in a disturbingly calm tone. "Refrain from transforming, or the next shot _will _be fatal."

"Warning shot." Liz echoed, chuckling wearily to herself. "That was a fuckin' _barrage_."

"What're we gonna do, sissy?" Patti asked, her voice surprisingly steady, despite the situation.

"You don't do anything." Lio snorted from nearby, where he was undoubtedly propped up against a wall. Liz snarled. That little fucking snitch would _pay_.

"You're caught." He continued, still bemused. "It's the end of your reign, Princess."

"Shut the _hell _up, buttface." Patti growled, pushing her sister off of her. Liz fell back onto her haunches, staring at her sister in shock at the fourteen-year-old rose from the ground. "All you ever do is be mean to Liz, just to make yourself happy. Like you said, Lizzy is a good person—BUT I'M NOT GONNA LET YOU HURT HER ANYMORE!"

"Patti…" The elder of the two whispered, still staring.

"I dunno about her, but I'm not gonna put my hands up and surrender!" Patti cried, stomping her foot in defiance of the situation. "I'm gonna kick all your butts, one by one!" She threw out her arms. "So come and get me cops! I'll go down, but not without a fight!"

"Patti, no." Liz said calmly, pulling herself to her feet. Patti glared before she saw the smile on her sister's lips. "We'll do this together."

A wicked grin split Patti's face as her sister began to glow bright pink, landing as a solid, silver gun in her hand that was quickly aimed towards the spotlight.

"Put your sister down, Thompson." The officer over the intercom directed. "Or we _will_ resort to lethal force."

"No way, José." Patti smirked, finding a vague silhouette behind the spotlight and aiming directly for its head. There was a deep sigh.

"Ready?"

The click of safety being removed.

"Aim."

The sounds of shuffling as the rifles were raised. Patti held fast, cocking Liz in one quick motion.

"Fi—."

For a split second, the warehouse was immersed in darkness as a shadow dashed over the spotlight, silencing the officer over the intercom.

"Hold your fire!" He shouted. "What the hell was _that_—?"

"Shinigami CHOP!"

A black shape fell from the catwalk the spotlight was situated upon. "Captain!" Someone yelled.

BONK! BAMF!

One by one, the officers fell from the low catwalk, landing in a twitching pile at its base.

"Goddammit! Fire!" Another cop shouted, however his voice died out with a grunt as he was added to the pile as well. Suddenly, Patti burst into an amused cackle, her momentarily serious demeanor broken.

"Neheheh! They're falling into a big leaf pile!" She cheered, tossing Liz over her shoulder. The elder girl landed in a crouch beside her sister, eyes narrowed in confusion.

"The hell…?"

"OOF!" The last person thrown onto the pile was Benvolio, a red lump throbbing on the crown of his head, blue eyes swirling.

"Hnn… I knew Chichi-ue invented that technique for _something_."

Liz shifted her gaze to the familiar form standing along with them in the path of the spotlight. It was the reaper, standing there checking his knuckles for bruises as if he'd just finished a stroll in a part than assaulting an entire police force.

"You," Liz mumbled in disbelief as Patti jumped into the police pile as if it were a bunch of dead leaves raked up for her amusement. "You saved us… _again_?"

"Yes." Kid nodded, finally turning back towards her. "Now, will you reconsider my proposal?"

"YOU JUST TOOK OUT AN ENTIRE POLICE FORCE!" She cried. "You—! You could go to jail _forever_!"

"Doubt it." He shrugged nonchalantly, readjusting the lapels of his blazer. "Diplomatic immunity."

"Oh please." Liz scoffed, planting her hands on her hips as Patti popped out of the pile to join her side. "You may be a wealthy reaper, but it's not like you're _The_ Grim Reaper or anything. Only someone like him could have that kind of immunity."

"You're right." Kid agreed, still as composed as ever. "I'm not The Grim Reaper."

"Well, then ya—."

"I'm his son."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Heya guys-- another week, another chapter. I'm happy to see a lot of favorites and watches on this story! Yay! I'm glad you guys like it; and I'd really like some feedback. Depending on how much I get, there may be a early update in store-- especially since the next chapter was by far my favorite to write out of what I have written so far. However, I still have the feeling that with the pace this story is going at, it would've worked much better in oneshot than in chapter form; due to the seemingly-rushed pace and jumping around that will occur in the coming chapters. Arghghhh. Anywho, the events of this chapter are still in **October 2007** I'll see you guys soon! Much love


	3. Something Crazy

"**Empire State of Mind"**

**Chapter Three**

**Something Crazy**

"We're so high up in the aiiiir!" Squealed Patti, pressing her face up against the window of the jet. "We've never been in an airplane beforeeee, Lizzy!"

"You should sit down, the pilot said we may get some turbulence." Kid sighed into his empty coffee mug, fiddling with the massage control on his seat. "Rachel, could you please refill my cup?"

"Right away, sir." A young flight attendant responded, talking the mug from him. His eyes flicked over to Liz, still strapped in her seat; she was watching the flight attendant with a visible amount of distain, most likely due to the skimpy skull-adorned maid outfit she wore as a uniform.

"The maid attire wasn't my idea." He explained to the ex-thug. "In fact, it was my father's—come to think of it, I think he was persuaded by his death scythe."

"Dirty old man." Liz mumbled. Kid shot her a look, golden eyes narrowing.

"Do _not_ insult my father." He nearly snapped. "He's very kind—kind enough to let you and your sister into our home."

"He makes your private jet flight-attendant-maid-thingies wear _skimpy little maid outfits_!"

"That's his decision." Kid grumbled, folding his arms over his chest. "And besides, he's a bit… _eccentric_. There are a lot more eclectic things back home, trust me."

"What's our new house like, Kid?" Patti asked, finally taking her seat once more. Kid sighed wistfully, a soft sparkle coming to his eye.

"_Symmetrical_." He breathed.

"Geez, what is it with you and symmetry?" Huffed the eldest of the three. "I've never met someone as freaking OCD as you are. You even made us get matching _clothes _for Christ's sake!" She pulled at her red knit turtleneck to make a point.

"I have to have_ some_ semblance of symmetry with you two when you're out of your weapon forms!" He shouted, sitting erect. "Even your_ tits _are different sizes!"

"SHUT UP!" Liz howled, slamming her arms over her breasts defensively. Patti, however, burst into amused giggles, promptly groping herself.

"Boooobieeees!" She snickered. "I have bigger booobs than Liiiizyyyy!"

"Shut up Patti!" Squawked the elder girl. "I can't help it you take after mom more than I do!"

"Hehe." Giggled Patti, releasing her breasts and flopping back into her seat as Liz mumbled about growing into her body eventually. Kid shook his head at the two's antics and gazed out the window as the young female co-pilot poked her head into the cabin.

"Captain says to buckle up, sir. We're landing." She informed them. Kid nodded as the maid from before handed him his mug and went to take her seat as well. Patti began to hum a song from a Disney movie and Liz shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Is this going to be like taking off?" She asked with a little wince.

"Slightly." Kid replied. Liz grimaced. It had taken her a long while to calm down after the takeoff and Kid feared an oncoming panic attack.

"Patti—if your sister starts to freak out, I want you to stay calm, okay?" Liz squeaked as the jet began to lower and the cabin shook with turbulence.

"Hakuna matata!" The smaller blonde replied nonchalantly, hardly even aware of her sister's pending mental breakdown.

"FUCK!" Liz screeched as the airplane gave a particularly violent jump. "Oh fuckin' _hell_, I'm gonna _die_!"

"Liz, I'd like for you to refrain from using such harsh language once we arrive at the estate—."

"I should've never tried to rob you in the first place! I would've never gone with Lio and I'd be safe in my freaky amusement park—!"

"Hakuna matata, ain't so passin' craze! It means no worries—!"

"You've confided in me that you hated that place with a passion, so I think you're much better off here—."

"Its going to be like that show I saw on TV where the side of the plane ripped off and the guy flew out and there was no air so his lungs, like, fuckin' popped and oh GOD—."

"—our problem-freeeee philosophyyyyy!"

"I don't think yelling will help this situation at all." Kid mumbled to himself, but he knew that his words were quickly drowned out by Liz's frightened ranting and Patti's shrill renditions of her favorite songs. Then again, he also supposed that his words weren't worth much based on the heavy hypocrisy that they carried.

"Mr. Ryoji?"

Kid froze, turning towards the back where the maid Rachel and a similarly dressed attendant blinked at him with large eyes, craning their heads towards him.

"Is everything alright?" The second attendant asked. Kid glanced at Liz, who was staring in slight confusion, and Patti, who seemed enthralled.

He sighed, the tension seeping out of his body as he massaged his temple with the tips of his fingers. Well, they were bound to find out eventually. "Yes, everything is fine, Anna. Thank you."

"Ryoji?" Liz asked, still looking wary of the landing, but also puzzled. "Is that your real name, Kid?"

"It sounds all Japanese-y!" Patti giggled. "Are you Japanese?"

"Yes—and no, Ryoji's not my name." Kid admitted, adjusting himself in his seat. "It's my last name. My grandmother's family name, to be exact."

"Why not your grandpa's?" Liz continued to probe, her fingers flexing on the armrests as the cabin shuddered.

"My grandfather had no family name that my father knew of—he was just The Grim Reaper."

"So wait," The elder girl began. "Your dad—THE Grim Reaper—had parents? I mean, of course he had parents." She added at Kid's raised eyebrows. "But he wasn't, like, THE one and only Grim Reaper?"

"My grandfather was the first, or so we assume. He was _very_ old; Father beleives he's been alive since—well, for a very long time." He supplied.

"What's your first name, then?" Patti quipped, kicking her legs merrily. Kid winced— he'd been expecting that question. "Come _ooooon_, Kid! We told you our full names, now you gotta tell us yours!"

"Like I said," Kid heaved yet another sigh. He predicted there'd be plenty more sighing in the presence of these two. "My true name is a secret. If any witches knew my name, there's a possibility that they could use it to control me through one of their spells; that's why it is so secreti—."

"TELL US!" Patti cheered, pumping her fists into the air. "Tell-us! Tell-us! Tell-us! TELLLL-USSSS!"

"Damien."

"Huh?" The youngest of the three paused mid-shout, arm stuck into the air. Liz sat up straight.

"Damien Ryoji." He repeated. "But you must never speak it in public, only in the privacy of the manor, if at all. It's important to make sure no one other than ourselves and the family servants hear my name."

"Damien." Liz repeated. "Huh. It suits you."

"Dami!" Patti giggled, thrashing side-to-side in excitement. "I can call you that at home, right?"

"I prefer Kid." He admitted. "Even my father hardly calls me Damien."

"Okay, then—WOAH!" Liz's eyes widened as the jet touched down with a THUD, the three of them wrenching forward as it tore to a stop.

"I-is it over?" She mumbled, still gripping the seats as if her life depended on it.

"We still have to taxi into the gate." Kid explained. "But yes, we're here."

"Good." Liz exhaled for what seemed like the first time since they began their descent, melting into the seat. "Hated that. How far until we get to Death City from here?"

"We're landing in Amargosa Valley airport right now." Kid explained, gesturing towards the beautiful display of nothing outside of the airport, save for a single gas-and-go with a massive billboard in the distance. "From here we'll take ninety-five to Camp Desert Rock and then the Mercury highway into the heart of the desert—that's where Death City is."

"Holy crap." Liz stared incredulously. "I have little to no idea about geography and all that stuff—but what you're telling me is that Death City is in the middle of _buttfuck nowhere_?!"

"Honestly, you're going to have to watch what you say." Kid mumbled to himself as the jet puttered to a stop, but he found his worse unheard as the girls scrambled to get to the door, obviously tired of being confined to the small space for so long. "At least wait until they get the stairs up against the door!"

"Oh my God." Liz gasped as the door unhinged and she brushed past a frightened-looking airport worker. "I think I just inhaled dryness and fire. Is there _no_ water in the air?!"

"Woah! This place is, like, a bajillion miles from nothing!" Patti commented, poking her head over her sister's shoulder as they made their way down the stairs, Kid bringing up the rear.

"Death City has the best accommodations a dessert city could offer." Kid explained, though he felt as if his words were falling on deaf ears as the sisters began stomping up and down the runway, eyeing the handsome, dusty Rolls Royce sitting before the tiny command tower.

"Is that _our_ car?" Liz pointed, pinning Kid with wide eyes. "Is that _your _car? Is that what we're going to Death City in?!"

"Yes." He mumbled in reply, eye twitching at the sight of the horrifically asymmetrical pattern of dirt on the front of the car. Kid promptly whipped a white handkerchief out of his coat and began to wipe the front of the vehicle. The driver stared at him through the windshield with an exasperated expression.

"Whatcha doing, Kid?" Patti asked as he swept a straight line over the front of the Rolls Royce.

"Fixing it." He explained, pocketing the soiled cloth and making a mental note to dispose of it later.

"Ooookie dokie, then." She shrugged, grinning as the driver exited and pulled the door open for her. Liz climbed in after her sister, eyes still illuminated with wonder. The elder man turned towards Kid.

"Sir, we're going to take a brief visit to the gift shop for some water and fuel. Would that be acceptable?" He inquired. Kid nodded curtly and slipped in, watching in vague amusement as Liz marveled over the leather seats and Patti fiddled with the controls of the Blu-Ray player. The car's engine purred to a start, kicking up a cloud of dust behind them.

"Can we watch Clifford?" She asked excitedly. "I wanna watch Clifford on the way there!"

"Ehm… I don't have any Clifford disks." Kid cleared his throat, opening a side-compartment to his small collection of movies. "However, I have Band of Brothers, Hamlet, Raiders of the Lost Ark; my father seems to have a small collection of Japanese variety shows, Casablanca—." He froze, staring at the girls' blank expressions. "I… we'll watch Indiana Jones."

"Indy!" Patti squealed. "Can we put it in, now?"

"After we stop for gas and water." Kid informed her as the car pulled to a stop in front of a small, hokey gift shop. A massive billboard overhead displayed a picture of an Alien, and the text "**LAST STOP BEFORE AREA 51**". The shinigami promptly popped open the door, the two blonde weapons trailing behind him as he entered the store. An elderly woman manned the counter behind a vivid display of feathery key chains, eyeing the strange trio half-incredulous, half-intrigued.

"You lookin' for anything specific?" She asked as they made their way to the back of the store. Kid shook his head, removing three cold bottles of water from the refrigerated section.

"Just water." He replied, setting it on the counter beside the God-awful key chains. None of them were in their proper place. There were chunks of blue-feathered chains all about, pink and purple dotting the display. A small tangle of green and orange occupied the bottom and it was so horribly _wrong_. He quickly began to adjust the display as the woman rang him up, looking slightly concerned.

"You don't need to do that, boy. Hardly no one comes in here for nothin'." She explained as he rapidly sorted the blues to both sides of the display.

"No, no. I need to do this." He assured the woman, placing the pink and purple in neat rows on the either side next to the blues; he'd have to tackle the horrific knot at the foot of the display a bit later—

"Hey Kid! Lookie what I found!"

The shinigami spun on his heel, hands full of feathers as he stared at Liz and Patti, standing directly behind him. Upon their heads were identical blue and white cowboy hats complete with upturned sides. Patti was beaming at him, and Liz looked a bit sheepish.

"We're cowgirls, now!" Giggled the younger Thompson sister. "You can be a real gunspringer of the west!"

"Gunslinger." Liz corrected, removing her hat. "Come on, Patti. Let's put these back."

The fourteen-year-old turned large, pleading blue eyes onto her sister, clutching the hat to her head. "No! Lizzy, you _can't_ take it away from me! It's perfect!"

Liz sighed. "No, Patti. You can't have it. We don't have any money."

"_But Lizzy_—!"

"Put them on the counter."

"Hunh?" The sisters turned towards Kid as he managed to untangle the bundle of feathers.

"If I'm going to buy them, I'm buying both of them." He explained, quickly finishing hanging the chains on the display. "There's no way I'll let you run around so asymmetrical."

"Really?!" Patti cheered, practically ripping her hat from her head and Liz's from her hands before tossing them onto the counter in front of the horrified old woman along with the water. "Oh my gosh, Kid! I love you for_ever_! Thank you, thank you!"

"They're just hats…" He mumbled, feeling a slight blush occupy his cheeks as he removed a skeleton-decorated credit card from his pocket. "No need to thank me."

"That'll be seventy five dollars."

"WHAT?!" Liz and Kid barked in unison, staring at the shop keeper incredulously.

"Twenty-five for each hat, and five for each bottled water." She explained, ringing them up without another word. "This is the last place for awhile before area fifty-one, unless you're headed to Death City—I'm sure you saw the sign?"

"That's a highway robbery!" Kid growled, folding his arms over his chest as she returned the card and his receipt. He signed it with a neat signature and took the bag she offered him. "Even after I organized your terrible display! Liz! Patti! We're leaving."

"Okie dokie!" The youngest of the three agreed as they exited the shop. The woman stared after them shaking her head before she crossed herself.

* * *

He was like fucking Santa Claus.

Liz had seen him on TV before, making an announcement about the newly-established Northern California branch of the DWMA several months back—and she'd just laughed. She couldn't believe that someone like that actually existed: a living, breathing, bouncing cartoon character with the mannerisms and voice of one as well. Was the media just bored, or did things as insane as him really exist?

Elizabeth Thompson quickly came to discover that yes, he did exist, and seeing him in person was even more discombobulating than seeing him on TV.

"These are the weapons you found in New York?" The Grim Reaper was asking his son. The black eyes of his mask boring into the girls. Liz squirmed, attempting to hold in her laughter. This was ridiculous. She was not here right now watching a giant cartoon character having a conversation with his son—his voice sounded like Santa, _it really did_.

"Yes. Elizabeth and Patricia Thompson." Kid explained, gesturing towards the girls standing on the other side of the parlor. "They're guns. Twenty-two caliber, I believe?"

"Uhm, yeah." Liz supplied. She glanced out of the corner of her eye at Patti, whom was staring at The Grim Reaper in complete enthrallment, much like a child would stare at a character at Disneyland. She hoped to God that she wouldn't run up and hug him. Then she _definitely_ wouldn't be able to contain her laughter.

"So you resonate well?" The massive black caricature inquired. Kid froze, eyes widening a fraction before he adjusted the labels on his blazer nervously; Liz observed that it seemed to be a nervous habit of his.

"Well, you see… I wasn't exactly in the mindset to see if we resonated and—."

"Shinigami _chomp_!"

Bonk!

Kid winced as the white foam glove came into contact with the top of his head lightly. "You should know better than that, Kid. You can't promise young ladies a partnership without knowing if you can properly resonate."

Liz's heart dropped from her chest into the pit of her stomach. It had hardly even crossed her mind. How could she be so freaking stupid as to accept this proposal without even knowing if they could work together in the first place?! The Grim Reaper would have them on a jet back to Brooklyn in the blink of an eye.

"But we will!" Kid insisted, smoothing his hair as best as he could. "They are the _only_ weapons I've _ever_ come across that are _completely identical_ and can resonate with one another! Please give us a chance, Chichi-ue!"

"What's a 'Chichi-ue'?" Patti whispered to her sister, poking Liz in the side. The elder girl quickly hushed her, jolting upright as The Grim Reaper turned to face them once more. He sighed, what Liz assumed were his shoulders drooping, and turned back to Kid.

"I trust your judgment, Kid." He nodded. "Besides, it's impossible to stay mad at someone with stripes as cute as yours." If it were possible for Kid to get any paler, he did, flinching and wincing behind his father's back. "And I think I'll enjoy extending our family. It gets lonely with just the two of us here, ne?"

"Ne?" Patti repeated the foreign expression under her breath with a tiny giggle.

"Well, I guess it's time to show you my face, since you're going to be living here anywho." The reaper spun around, the jagged edges of his cloak suddenly pooling around his shoulders. A large, pale hand snaked up to remove his mask.

Liz stared as the hood slipped over his shoulders. She has been expecting a wizened old man, based on the jovial and ancient voice that she'd heard. He was—he was supposed to be really old, right?

Then _why the hell_ was a handsome man that looked barely older than thirty nine smiling at her and her sister with warm topaz eyes and layered black hair falling around his face? She was frozen in place, soaking in the image of the tall man before her, eyes darting between the three rings of white encircling the crown of his head and the incomplete stripes on Kid's. When did they jump out with the hidden camera?

"It's nice to meet you Elizabeth, Patricia." He greeted them; Liz gawked. His voice was so much more—_young_ than it had been three seconds before, warm and deep, but soft and everything that would make a girl's knees buckle.

Frankly, Kid's dad was _hott_. With two t's.

Suddenly, Patti gripped Liz's arm, staring up at the man with frightened eyes; her elder sister felt a pang of remorse for her. What had initially been a playful cartoon character was now a very tall, very _intimidating_ man that towered over the younger girl—and despite his warm demeanor and benevolent smile, Liz knew that Patti was afraid.

"It's very nice to meet you as well, sir." She said, gripping her little sister's hand as the girl shrunk back slightly. He laughed, reaching up to scratch at the back of his head.

"Sir? Oh, everyone calls me 'Sir'—." As he began to step forward, the hem of his cloak snagged under his boots and The Grim Reaper came toppling down with all the force of a redwood tree. Kid promptly planted his face in his palms. "Itetete…" He righted himself, grinning sheepishly. "Well, now you know why I'm in that cloak all the time. The astral body it gives me is a lot less prone to falling down than I am usually."

And thus they met Shinigami-sama, the clumsy reaper and the one who would become their father.

* * *

Despite all their years wielding one another, neither Liz nor Patti had ever set foot in a firing range.

After her sister had fit her and herself with the appropriate earplugs, the youngest Thompson sister followed Liz and her meister into The Death City Indoor Firing Range. Once Kid had signed the proper paperwork and paid the admittance fee, the reaper led them into the back room where a row of stations were set up, a rubber mound covering the far wall. Paper targets whizzed through the air on wire pulley systems while meisters and casual marksmen alike surveyed the damage they had done. Patti winced at the loud crack of guns firing and tasted the sweetness of nitrogen on the back of her tongue, unused to seeing real guns being put into use.

"Klaus?"

Patti perked up, turning towards Kid, and following his line of vision to the slender form of an elder boy crouched over a shot gun. He glanced out of the corners of his copper-colored eyes before a smile broke over his lips and he stood up straight, resting the butt of his gun against his shoulder.

"Death the Kid." He said in a soft German accent, brushing a lock of wavy brown auburn behind his ear. Patti felt Liz stiffen beside her and she glanced out of the corner of her eye to see Liz do her nervous, giggly thing she did when she saw a very attractive guy her age. The boy named Klaus extended a hand towards Kid, whom shook it with both of his. "Back from New York so soon?"

"The trip was cut short. I've found my weapons." He gestured towards the sisters standing beside him. Klaus smiled at them warmly before it broke into a grin.

"So you're marrying both of them, then? I've never seen you as the polygamist type, Kid." He chortled. Kid blanched, then turned pink and began to stutter.

"This—you—Klaus, Liz and Patti are _not_ going to be marrying me." He explained, shaking his head violently.

"Ah, that's good." He nodded, reaching out to gather Liz's hand in his. "I was going to say what I shame it was that such a pretty girl was to be wed so young." He pressed his lips to the back of her hand and Liz blushed the shade of an apple, unsure of how to reply. Patti scowled, and wondered how far she could sink her teeth into his hand. "Say, Kid. I think I vould make this pretty girl my weapon if she weren't yours already. That and—."

Suddenly the shotgun within his grasp began to glow a vibrant purple, collecting in the form of a small girl with long, curly hair similarly colored to his own. She gripped the skirt of her frilly black dress, glaring at Liz in the same way that Patti glared at Klaus.

"I already have a weapon." He laughed sheepishly. "This is my little sister Lesya. Say hello, darling."

The girl frowned and pressed herself to her brother's side, burying her face in his black dress shirt. Kid turned towards his weapons. "Liz and Patti, this is my acquaintance Klaus Kaulitz and his sister Lesya, they attend shibu—The DWMA; Klaus and Lesya, Liz," He turned to face the German siblings, gesturing towards the elder girl. "And her sister Patti Thompson." He gesticulated towards the younger of the two, whom was still glaring daggers at Klaus.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Thompson sisters." Klaus nodded. " Unfortunately, Lesya and I have to return home." He winked at Liz and she beamed. "Once you get off the range, you better prepare for a show. Kid's style is quite unlike anything you've ever seen before. I hope we'll see each other in the future."

"Me, too!" She chirped. Patti resisted the urge to snarl at the elder boy, noticing that Lesya was giving Liz an optic death ray at the same time.

"Nyeeeeh." Patti sufficed for sticking her tongue out at Klaus as he and his sister passed.

"Patti, come here, please." Kid instructed as he clipped a paper target up to the pulley, flipping a switch and sending it soaring towards the rubber wall. "I'd like both you and Liz to transform now, if you'd please."

Patti locked eyes with her sister, beaming as the thoughts of the icky boy Klaus drained from her system. It was time to kick ass and nothing could stand in her way. The energy crackled at her fingertips and toes, consuming her body as she soared into Kid's grasp.

For a split second, she felt the momentary horror of both Liz and Kid brush up against her—the terror that Kid would not be able to properly wield them. But as soon as the feeling had come, it washed past them, overcome with her sister's familiar wavelength ebbing alongside hers, and the new, yet welcome one of Kid's moving with hers as well. The soft tremors between their wavelengths died off quickly as they flowed in unison, Kid raising them inverted with steady intent. The second he pulled their triggers, an intense jolt sounded through Kid's soul and out into Liz and Patti's. The smoking holes on either side of the center of the target were clear to see, even in their weapon forms.

"Holy crap!" Liz gasped. "You're amazing!"

"Wow!" Patti cheered. "You could probably shoot with your eyes closed!"

"Would you like me to?" He asked in all seriousness.

"YES!" Cried the youngest of the three.

"Uhm, let's save that for later…" Liz gave a nervous laugh. "But for now, let's keep shooting. This is awesome."

"Agreed." Kid nodded, and flipped them right side up, pulling the triggers again. He recovered from the kickback with fluid ease and fired several more times in quick succession, leaving a line of identical bullet holes on either side of the target. "I must admit, I'm lucky you two were guns. They're the only kind of weapon I actually have experience with."

"What else have ya shot with?" Patti asked, cackling in amusement as she and her sister were flipped once more.

"Derringers, forty-five caliber, twenty-twos—like you—all handguns and pistols. I refuse to work with shotguns like Klaus does." He informed them.

"Why not?" The younger of the two inquired.

"There must be balance." Kid explained earnestly as he finally managed to shoot the target exactly in half. He lowered the sisters to his sides, grinning in triumph. "There must be symmetry."

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Hey everyone, Chocolate Moosey here with another update. Sorry its a little late-- I went and saw Alice in Wonderland twice this weekend (once on Friday, again on Saturday. Its AMAZING by the war, GO SEE IT NAO), and also saw a play today (which was REALLY good!). I just got another tutoring job, so I may not have as much time to write, but I'll definately be writing. After next week, I'll be out of pre-written chapters, so you guys will probably have to wait for the story to be finished. In any case, please enjoy! And don't forget to review. Much love!


	4. New Soul

"**Empire State of Mind"**

**Chapter Four**

**New Soul**

"I swear to God, Kid! Were you shooting guns or were you doing interpretative dance?!"

"I was merely attempting to subdue the kishin egg—."

"You looked like an idiot! Even the _kishin egg_ was staring at you like you were a drunken moose playing DDR!" Liz tossed her bag onto the couch, planting her hands firmly on her hips. A kishin egg had broken onto the campus of the private academy she and her sister attended alongside Kid, leading to a horrific all-nighter in which they had stalked the creature through the halls of the school in a perfectly-symmetrical manner. "Not to mention it was all dark and freaky in there! That was _horrible_!"

"That was so _cool_!" Patti giggled, running into the family room with a bowl of lucky charms. "Kid we were _awesome_! You were flyin' around like: PSHEW! And then we were all flippy like: PEW! PEW! PEW! And we totally got him!"

"I agree." Kid nodded, stifling a yawn with the back of his head. "But right now I need to get to bed. Would you wake me up around noon?"

"Sure, whatever." Liz scowled, trudging towards the kitchen, muttering darkly as she heard Patti start the TV to watch her Saturday morning cartoons. "I wasted a perfectly good Friday night playing Ghost Hunt at school… I'm going to bed right after this, I'm _starved_."

Liz opened the fridge, eying the strange Japanese foods that occupied the majority of the shelves before she reached around a tub of what Kid had said was bean-paste-stuff to grab a yogurt, snatching a spoon out of a drawer. Back in the sitting room, Patti was perched in front of the television, already giggling madly at the antics of a yellow sponge. Liz fell onto the sectioned couch gracelessly, ripping open the top of her yogurt.

"You going to bed after breakfast, Patti?" She asked.

"Nope." Her little sister replied. "Not tired. I'll go to bed tonight."

"Okay." Liz shrugged, knowing that she'd probably pass out by three in the afternoon regardless of what she said.

There was suddenly a crash from the kitchen, causing Liz to bolt upright as her Brooklyn instincts took over for a split second before realizing that she was in no danger. It was most likely the cook starting up lunch or something—

She was quickly proven wrong as she heard a familiar chant of "Ow ow ow _ow_…" That could only come from one person. Lo and behold, he appeared in the sitting room moments later in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants clutching a poptart, looking for all the world lost in his own home.

"Morning." Shinigami-sama mumbled, wiping sleep out of his eyes. Patti stared up at him with a little smile as he glanced at the television and promptly crossed the room, falling down backwards onto the couch. He blinked at the ceiling several times before glancing at Liz. "Were you kids out all night?"

"Yeah, uhm—a kishin egg got onto campus at St. Amo's, so we stayed there all night hunting it—we got it, though!" She told him, expecting some sort of lecture. But to her surprise, he merely held up a single thumb.

"Cool beans. Did Kid go to sleep?" He asked.

"Yeah, he wants to be woken up at noon." She replied. "Is today your day off, sir?"

"Don't call me that at hooooome." Shinigami-sama moaned, covering his eyes with the poptart. "I get enough of that 'Sir' and 'sama' and 'Lord Death' stuff at Shibusen. It's my day off, I wanna be called—." He paused to yawn. "By my name. And it's way too early to be up. Sleeping in until noon sounds so _goooood_." He added sleepily.

"It's not really _that_ early—." Liz began, glancing towards the reaper, only to find that (quite ironically) he already appeared to be dead to the world. For a long while, she sat there, ignoring the sound of Patti's cartoons and the younger girl's periodic cackles, and just took in the form of the Shinigami-sama.

It was strange how similar he looked to Kid, and yet so vastly different at the same time. It was clear to see that they were father and son, with pale skin, striped black hair, and a slender, lithe build. They were even similar in small ways that Liz hadn't noticed throughout her two-month stay at the Ryoji estate: long, dark lashes and oddly smooth and boyish skin on their faces. But it was his angular jaw line and height that set him apart from his round-faced and petite son—not to mention the stark contrast of their personalities. But lying there asleep, however, Liz half-expected him to bolt awake ad start barking to her and Patti about symmetry. Her mouth quirked into a smile at the ridiculous thought.

There was also something… _approachable _about The Grim Reaper as he slept. Relaxed and open there on the white couch, he could have been easily mistaken for a human. He stirred in his sleep, turning onto his side and burying his face in the crook of his arm. Liz's smile faded as he continued to stare. Despite his supposed Godhood, he really was mortal, wasn't he? Kid had said his mother and grandfather had died, and she assumed his grandmother as well—didn't that mean that Lord Death as well as his son were both able to be killed?

It really made both of them seem much more human.

* * *

Kid ran a hand through his hair. It was well past three and he was still no closer to falling asleep. Through his open window, cicadas buzzed with obnoxious intensity. The heat was driving him absolutely insane, even in the dead of night. The weather report had said that the next few days were going to be some of the record hottest in Death City in the past twenty years, and with his air conditioner broken, he was going to have to suffer until midday without cool air. He silently considered reorganizing his room or taking out an old issue of _Guns and Ammo_, but he felt nearly paralyzed under the dry heat and sufficed for crawling out of his bed and shutting the window.

Suddenly, there was a muffled _thump_ from downstairs, and Kid poked his head into the narrow stairwell that lead from his room to Liz and Patti's. As par usual, Liz had left the door closed, and he could no longer hear the noise from before. Quietly, he started down the stairs, pushing the door open gently. Liz was curled up on top of her sheets, her hair twisted into a bun at the top of her head. However, Patti's bed strewed with plushies was oddly empty.

'_Did she go to the bathroom_?' Kid thought, crossing the room to the doorway before pausing, golden eyes locked on the pink and blue bed sheets. '_Her pillowcase is missing…_'

He pushed the door open, surprised to hear soft sobbing from down the hall and the sound of running water. Eyes narrowed in concern, he crossed over to the open door, pausing when he heard a very gentle exchange.

"Its okay, Patti. You don't have to cry."

"I'm sorry," Patti hiccupped between her gentle cries. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"Hey, it's not an 'I'm sorry' situation, its okay." His father said softly. "Kid used to get nosebleeds all the time when he was little. These things happen when it's really dry and hot out."

"B-but I ruined it!" Cried Patti as Kid leaned against the wall, peeking into the bathroom. His father was crouched over the sink, running cold water over the stained pillowcase. Patti was curled up on the toilet seat, holding a washcloth up to her nose. Her entire body was racked with tremulous sobs as she rocked back and forth, apologizing again and again. "I'm so sorry! I'm _really, really_ sorry!"

"Its okay, its okay." His father assured her, holding up the soaked pillowcase. "See? Most of it came out really easy! I'll put this down the laundry chute and Jenny will have the rest of the stains gone in the morning, okay?"

He raised his hand towards her and suddenly Patti clapped her hands and the bloody cloth on top of her head, flinching away. "_Don't hit me_!" She sobbed, shaking violently. "_Please don't hit me_!"

The reaper gently retracted his hand and knelt to Patti's level, gently placing his hand on her knee. "I'm not going to hit you, Patricia. No one's going to hit you. I'm not mad at all."

She sniffled, slowly blinking open her tearstained eyes. "B-but… when I was little and I messed up, I always got hit by my daddy. He said I deserved it. I deserve to be hit for wrecking your nice things, Mr. Shinygami, you gave me an' my sissy a place to stay and nice things and all I ever do is mess everything up—."

She was cut off as the shinigami embraced her, tucking her head into his shoulder and gently stroking the back of her hair. "_No one's_ going to hit you anymore, Patti. No one. I won't ever let that happen. You're safe here, you understand?"

Patti nodded, still sobbing as she wrapped her hands around him, burying even deeper into his shoulder. "O-okay. Okay. Thank you so much, you're the nicest person I ever met. I really love you and Kid, Mr. Shinygami. You two have always been the nicest to Lizzy and I, even after we did all those bad things."

Kid smiled softly, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks as he considered Patti's words. He'd never heard someone other than his father tell him that they loved him, even if it was in a brotherly or sisterly manner.

"I love you too, Patti." Shinigami-sama said, kissing the crown of her head softly. "You and Liz are very sweet girls, and you're doing a lot of good things to make up for the bad things you did."

The blonde sniffled, pulling away as she wiped her nose with the back of her hand before she faced the tall man. "Mr. Shinigami… I think you're what a daddy is supposed to be: really nice and you don't ever hit me like my other daddy did. Can… will you be my new daddy?"

Kid could practically feel his father melting. "Of course, Patti." He nodded, pulling her into yet another hug. "Of course."

The younger shinigami smiled, backing away from the crack in the door; he was sure that Patti was going to be okay.

* * *

"Why is there never any normal people food in here?!" Liz asked no one in particular, glaring into the fridge where nothing but foreign foods occupied the shelves. She considered waiting until the cook returned to start preparing dinner, her stomach growled in protest of the thought and she sighed, picking up the tub of bean-paste-stuff marked **MISO **and spinning it in her hands. The back included a list of instructions that were, thankfully, in English.

"Tofu and green onions." She mumbled, pulling out a small white package and a wrapped stock of the onions. "Okay, this shouldn't be too hard to make, I just gotta boil water and dissolve this stuff in the rest."

Liz set to work, pulling out a chopping board to dice the tofu and onions while boiling a small pot of water next to the softly bubbling rice cooker the maid Anna had loaded earlier. Despite popping the tofu package and getting a great deal of milky water over the front of her, the process was relatively simple, and she found herself stirring the yellowish paste into a tiny bowl moments later, emptying the contents into the pot along with the tofu. Quickly going over the directions, Liz plucked up the onions and emptied them into the boiling soup, turning off the heat and feeling strangely proud of herself for completing—

"Shinigami _chop_!"

The blonde squeaked as she felt his hand come into contact with her head, spinning around to face a wide-eyed Shinigami-sama, his dark cloak low on his shoulders and mask tied to the side of his head.

"U-uh—sir!" Liz stammered, standing up straight. "I didn't know you were coming home for lunch today! I'm really sorry, was this specifically your food—?"

"What about the dashi stock?" He asked, golden eyes still as big as saucers.

"The—the what?" Blinked the teen, shaking her head slightly.

"The dashi stock!" He cried, dashing across the kitchen and ripping a small blue-green box from the cupboard. "You can't have miso soup without the dashi stock! It'll taste _all wrong_! Here, here!"

He flung the box onto the counter, snatching a spoon from a drawer and dipping it into the soup. "Taste a little—taste that!"

Liz stared up at the tall man, who stared back earnestly, holding the spoon out to her lips. Carefully, she pressed her lips to the side of the soup, blowing to cool it and then taking a small sip. "It tastes fine."

"Right, right, of course it does." He nodded, grabbing the box and removing a little packet. He shook it, and then emptied the contents into the miso soup, where it hissed and dissolved quickly. "But the dashi makes it taste so much more authentic! Here, here—taste it now!"

He jammed the spoon back into Liz's face and she blinked up at him incredulously before taking another taste of the soup. Her eyes widened a fraction. "Woah!"

"It really makes a difference, doesn't it?" He grinned, removing two bowls from one of the cupboards. "You mind if I have some?"

"Not at all." Liz shook her head as he dished them out into equal portions.

"You wanna learn to make onigiri next?" The shinigami beamed, gesturing excitedly towards the rice cooker steaming on the counter. "I told Anna to start up the cooker before I got home so I could make some for lunch."

"Sure." Liz nodded, watching him sip from the rim of the miso bowl and quickly doing the same. "I mean, if you have the time. I know you're always really busy."

"I can take time for onigiri." He said, staring at her in shock. "I can _always_ take time for onigiri. But only if you promise to take me some at work sometimes."

"Okay." She agreed, watching him pop open the lid and empty the rice into a glass bowl to cool. "But, uhm—what're onigiri?"

"Riceballs." He replied, shedding his cloak and tossing it over the island nonchalantly. "We have a cloth around here? I needa pull back my hair—aha!" He triumphantly snatched a blue kerchief off the counter and flipping his hair upside down. "You grab one, too, okay? I don't want to look like a dork by myself. I already do that on a daily basis."

Liz giggled, picking up a cloth and flipping her hair upside down, just as the shinigami had done. "Like this?"

"Uh huh. You're really good at that! Sure you weren't a Japanese baker in another life?" He asked, grabbing an empty bowl and filling it with water. "Okay, I just need some sesame seasoning and nori—I think we have some of that teriyaki-seasoned kind left…" He crossed the kitchen again, returning with a plastic case of roasted seaweed strips and a shaker of black sesame seeds and salt. "Okay, so! First you need to get your hands wet so the rice doesn't stick, but not so much that it gets drenched." He explained, dipping his hands in the water bowl and shaking off the excess liquid. "Next you take a handful of rice and kinda squish it I your palm, and once you've done that, you can make it into a little ball." He demonstrated, beginning to mold it with his pointer finger and thumb. "And then you make it into a little triangle, like this. So nowwww—." He grabbed a piece of nori from the case, wrapping it around the bottom of the onigiri. "You just add a little shake of seasoning, and you're done. Here ya go!" He beamed, thrusting the riceball into Liz's face. She smiled and accepted it, taking a small bite.

"That's really good!" She exclaimed, taking another bite. "Where'd you learn to make these?"

The shinigami laughed as she finished off her riceball and began to work alongside him. "My mother. She taught me to make them when I was—God, I dunno, seven? So it was a good eight hundred years ago, then."

Liz gawked; Lord Death laughed awkwardly and tugged at the cloth upon his head sheepishly. "You think that's bad? I'm being _gracious_ to myself. No idea how I've gone so long without going senile and forgetting all about my parents."

"Wow." Liz whispered, holding up the riceball for him to inspect. "Is this alright?"

"A little small, but a good start." He nodded, and then stopped, snorting to himself. "Aw, man. I need to stop watching The Office in my spare time, can't make those kinds of jokes in front of my kids…"

Liz coughed, noting the blatant 'that's what she said' joke looming beneath the conversation, and tried to steer it back in the original direction. "So, what was your mother like anyway?"

"Amazing." He grinned. "She was both a housewife and the lady of the house. One of those I'll-clean-my-own-kitchen-if-I-very-well-please-now-shoo-servants type of people. She taught me to write and read in both English and Japanese; and even though it may seem like I'm speaking through the nostalgia filter, she was _very_ intelligent. Not to mention very pretty." He sighed, shaking his head. "She had these beautiful, kind silver eyes and was the very last shinigami to ever have them."

"But wait." Liz interrupted, wrapping the bottom of her onigiri with a sheet of nori. "I thought that reapers have golden eyes."

"North American ones." He explained. "There's a different eye color for each region: gold for north America, orange in south America, brown in Africa, violet in western Europe, green in eastern Europe, scarlet in southeast Asia, and blue-green in Oceana." The shinigami listed off before he scowled. "Black used to be central Asia, but that entire race was wiped out by the Kishin years and years ago."

"Woah." She whispered in awe. "So what about the stripes, then? Is that a north American thing, too?"

"No, it's a family thing." Explained Lord Death, tapping his head. "My father had them, and it looks like I gave them to Kid as well—they'll start connecting the older and more experienced he becomes.

"I see." The blonde nodded, resting her elbows on the counter. "So what happened to the silver-eyes anyway?"

"Well, originally the silver-eyed reapers occupied Japan and the other pacific island countries like Korea and Taiwan." The shinigami went on, shaking a healthy amount of seasoning onto his riceball. "The red-eyed reapers moved in from the mainland and they wanted the territory. Very few escaped and went on to live with other reapers. By some strange coincidence, my mother ended up in Europe and met my father there—the golden-eyed reapers originally held central Europe before they moved to America and took over that territory—time went by and she was eventually the last of her kind left. However, some sort of political scandal landed her in an undesirable position and she was killed; my father followed soon after in an attempt to avenge her."

"That's horrible." Liz stared at him in shock. "I'm so sorry…"

The shinigami shrugged, moving the now-empty bowls into the sink. "I do appreciate it. But it's not something I'll have a mental breakdown over if I talk about it; you can ask me whatever you'd like."

"What about Kid's mother? What was she like?"

Lord Death froze above the sink before releasing a deep sigh and gripping the edges. "Kid's mother?"

"Yeah. He—."

The door swung open and Kid himself stepped in, glancing from his father, to Liz, and then back. Shinigami-sama grinned and stood up straight. "Heya, Kid! I came home for lunch and I'm showing Liz how to make onigiri, you wanna help?"

"Ah…" Kid stepped backwards, looking down at the tiled floor. "No, I think I should get going. It's okay."

"Kid—!" His father began, but the younger reaper had stepped backwards out of the room. The man sighed again, rubbing his temples in exasperation. "There he goes again, it's like he's afraid of being in the same room as me. Sometimes, I think he actually resents me."

"Of course not!" Liz cried, gripping her hands into fists earnestly. "Kid _idolizes_ you!"

"But to him he'll never be good enough unless he reaches a certain level." Shinigami-sama frowned, picking up a riceball and staring at it as if it held the secrets of the universe. "Not to mention the fact that I let my work all but consume me after his mother left us because..." His hand tightened around the onigiri as he trailed off. "I tried to erase every bit of her from our lives, thinking it would be easier on him… he was so small and I thought that—." He shook his head. "But I was an idiot. Still am. It never occurred to me that the biggest reminder of her existence would be Kid himself, and that's why I just separated myself from him and hid behind my work."

Liz was silent as she watched the pain cross over his usually jovial face. It was strange seeing those expressions, those reactions, hearing those words from a person who was usually so larger-than-in terms of insanity and goofiness. There really was a man hiding behind that mask.

"So Kid's a lot like his mom?" She finally asked, feeling an intense need to break the silence. "What was she like?"

The sharp expression suddenly left Shinigami-sama's face, leaving it blank as he leaned his elbows on the counter. "Delilah was the most beautiful, manipulative, intimidating, cut-throat succubus that I have ever met." His lips broke into a smile. "God I loved her."

"Ehe." Liz laughed, not bothering to question his reasoning. "So, uhm, what—?"

"What attracted me to her in the first place if she was such a cruel person?" He completed for her. "Honestly, her looks. I know it was shallow of me, but I had no idea of what kind of person she was when we met; and we met a _long _time ago. I didn't see her for a great while after that." He explained. "But I met her again in the late 1800's and I found myself more and more attracted to the enigma that would become my wife. She was almost like a puzzle, you see? Almost figured her out and BAM!" He smacked the counter, grinning. "She'd throw something new at you!"

"That _does_ sound like Kid." Liz giggled, a drop of sweat rolling down the back of her head.

"She was phenomenally kind and protective—though she'd never let anyone see that side of her if she didn't want them to." Lord Death went on. "Also, Delilah was a _complete_ perfectionist; there always had to be a place for _everything_ and if stuff was left lying around or things didn't go according to her plan you sure as hell would feel her wrath. I think that's where Kid got it from."

"What did she look like?" Liz prodded, sipping from her cooled bowl of miso. The reaper sighed, turning to lean on the counter and Liz winced, realizing that she may have prodded the difficult subject too far.

"Small and gorgeous." He explained. "With long black, black hair and big, penetrating grey eyes. Kid _definitely_ got her eye-shape and her stature—and there are all these little mannerisms he has, too. Sometimes it's like he _is_ Delilah."

"Well," The blonde began softly. "I mean, even if he is part of her, he's part of you, too, right? Looking at him doesn't always have to be painful." The shinigami turned to face Liz, looking mildly surprised. "Every time I look at Patti I see our mom in her. How happy she always is, and the way she can be so damn _scary_ at times." She shivered. "She has Mom's face and her eyes and _everything_—and Mom used to say that I looked like our dad and how I was a big 'fraidy-cat just like him. But, you know, she said that made her happy. Because even though he was gone, dad still lived on in me and that I was always going to be there to remind her of his love for her and all the good times we had together before he left. And for awhile after Mom died, I didn't even wanna look at Patti because it hurt so badly. But when I remembered what Mom had said about me, it didn't hurt as much."

When Liz finally looked up at Lord Death, he was smiling. He proceeded to reach out and ruffle the cloth in her hair, leaving a piece of rice in his wake. "I don't care what Kid says about you, I think you're alright."

The teenager giggled, picking out the rice before she sobered. "I really appreciate you sharing this with me: the cooking and the stories, I mean. It really means a lot."

"Anytime." He beamed, removing the cloth from his own hair. "I hate to dine and dash, but work waits. I'll definitely keep what you said in mind, Lizzy. Thank you."

"You're welcome." She nodded, picking up the bowls and beginning to load them into the dishwasher as he headed for the kitchen door, scooping up his black cloak. "And,"

He paused, glancing over his shoulder at her, "Hmn?"

"Thanks Dad." Liz blushed. The shinigami smiled warmly and nodded before he went on his way.

* * *

"Hey retard."

Patti turned on her heel towards the tall boy standing behind her. He glowered down at the freshmen with brown eyes.

"That's not nice." Patti scowled, adjusting her red backpack over her shoulders. "I'm not retarded."

He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "Whatever. Where's your sister?"

"She's back in the classroom." Replied the younger of the two; she shrugged away from him, frowning. There was definitely something icky about this guy and the way he acted.

"Which classroom is she in?" He asked impatiently. Patti nervously gripped the pleats of her plaid skirt, shrinking away from him, there were little warning lights going off in her head, and all she could see in the demeanor of this boy was the tall, intimidating form of her step father.

"I—I dunno." She lied; his eyes locked back onto her and he snarled softly, grabbing Patti harshly by her shoulder and giving her a fierce shove into a wall.

"Fucking little brat." He growled. "Just because you're one of Lord Death's son's little sluts doesn't give you the privilege to freaking _lie _to me. Now be the good little piece of street trash you are and tell me where your sister is."

Patti wavered on the spot, pinned by the boy's fierce glare. Her fingers twitched, aching to twist into the form of a barrel, but she was almost completely paralyzed. She should do something. She should cry for help. But nothing escaped her throat accept a tiny, horrified noise. The boy gave her another violent shove and she fell to the ground, cupping her cheek numbly as the upperclassmen stalked off.

She sat in silence on the floor for a good several minutes, mind reeling.

From down the hall came a ferocious slam and she was on her feet. Everything she heard came a second too late; everything she saw was too fast. It was just like those times when he'd come home drunk and amuse himself by smacking her and Liz around for awhile before—

Something awful uncoiled and gave a violent lurch in Patti's stomach as she came to a standstill before the classroom door, staring in at the form of her sister pinned against a wall by the side of her head.

'_Turn your fingers into a barrel and shoot him, Liz_.' Patti thought. '_Just like the old days when the guys in the alley used to try an' beat you up. You can take him. You really can_.'

But Liz wasn't doing anything. Her hands were wrapped around his wrist, shaking as she tried to remove him. He snarled something lowly at her. Through the door it sounded like 'whore'. Patti took a step backwards. It was almost as if she weren't in the school at all. She was peeking through the crack in her door, watching their step father demand to know where thirteen-year-old Liz had been as he pushed her up against a wall time and time again. They didn't know they were guns, then. Completely helpless, completely trapped.

"—why my girlfriend thinks I fucking slept with you, you little _skank_!" There was a terrible noise as Liz was shoved up against the wall again. Patti could hear the boy's words clearly now. Why didn't Liz just turn into a gun? Just like in the old days.

"Are you making shit up about us?! What the fuck makes you think you have the right to do that?!"

No, not the old days. The days in-between where they could do whatever the hell they wanted to and get away with it. Patti was backing up on trembling legs. She couldn't go in there with her step father and risk getting hit. She couldn't turn into a gun this time, they'd get in trouble. That wasn't an option here in this nice school with all the nice things their new nice daddy had given them. She'd mess up again and have to go back. And then she'd get hurt. Liz knew and she was taking the beating for Patti.

Slow, tremulous steps soon became long strides as Patti tore down the hallway, cuffing violently at her eyes. He'd promised she'd never get hit again. Daddy would help Liz when she just _couldn't_. Someone, someone—

She crashed into him, chest heaving violently.

"Patti?" Kid asked; he sounded angry, but also concerned. "What's the matter? Why did you run into me—you just messed up my shirt! Where's Liz—?"

"HE'S HURTING HER!" Patti shrieked, gripping the front of his polo shirt in trembling fists. "HE'S FUCKING HURTING HER AND IT'S ALL MY FAULT!"

"What?!" Kid pushed away from the girl, attempting to unclench her fists from his shirt. "Patti, calm down! What's going on?"

"LIZ! IT'S LIZ! AND HE'S HITTING HER REAL HARD, JUST LIKE BACK THEN!" The younger of the two cried hysterically, collecting a few odd glances from the other handful of after-school stragglers. Kid gripped her shoulders tightly.

"Who's hitting Liz?" He asked, voice surprisingly steady.

"A boy! A boy came up to me and called me retarded and then he asked where Liz was an' I didn't tell him so he threw me into a wall, and—and—." She took a deep breath between sobs. "AND NOW HE'S HITTING HER! IT'S MY FAULT!"

Before she knew it, Kid was gone.

Patti whipped around, watching her meister sprint down the hall. Before she knew it, she was following him, running as fast as her still-shaking legs would carry her. By the time she arrived at the classroom, the door was open and Liz was curled up at the foot of the wall, holding the side of her head in pain. Patti's eyes twitched to Kid.

He was _livid_.

The younger Thompson sister had only seen Kid get this angry on the occasion of somebody messing up his symmetry—but never had she seen the reaper snarl and hold someone against the wall with such ferocity that they shook in fear. He had grabbed the upperclassmen by his collar and slammed him into the wall, and was now boring burning golden eyes into terrified brown ones. Patti stood in awe, watching the shocking reaction from her meister. She had no clue he could get so _mad_ over another person.

"I—I promise, man! I won't touch her again!" The boy stammered. "I heard some shit, and—!"

"You think that makes it acceptable for you to _assault_ her, you lowlife?!" Kid snarled, giving the boy a fierce shove into the wall. "May I remind you she is the future death scythe of the heir to _deathood_. It's a miracle she took mercy on you. Trust me; you'd be permanently scarred by the lesions from her 'bullets'."

He finally dropped the boy, who crumpled to the ground and stared up at the reaper in horror. "I'll be sure that you will be expelled and tried for battery, Mr. Zachariah. Now get out of my _sight_."

The upperclassmen tore off, his sneakers squeaking loudly against the linoleum floor as Kid turned towards his weapon, taking her gently by the shoulders. "What the hell were you _thinking_, Liz?!"

"I couldn't shoot him." She mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes. "I didn't want to get in trouble."

"It would've been in self-_defense_! I _know _you could've fought back, Liz! Easily!" Kid shook her softly, his eyes narrowed earnestly. Patti found herself lowering to Liz's height, still shaking softly with tears.

"I should've done something." The smaller blonde whispered. "I'm so sorry, Lizzy. I should've—."

"_No_." Her sister snapped. "The last thing I want is for you to get in trouble, too, Patti."

"No one would've gotten into trouble!" Their technician growled, helping Liz to her feet. "You're _both _idi—!" He stopped, seeing both Liz and Patti turn their tearstained eyes onto him. The shinigami sighed, taking each of his weapons' hands in his and turning towards the classroom door. "Let's get to the nurse's office. After that, I'm having a word with the Headmaster."

"'Phenomenally kind and protective', huh?" Liz said under her breath. Patti blinked large eyes up at her as Kid led them down the hallway.

"What was that?" He asked.

"Nothing." Liz smiled, tears sliding down her cheeks.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Heeeeey guys, sorry for the huge gap in-between updates. I've had this chapter written for awhile, but I was putting off proof-reading and posting it due to the fact that it was the last part of the story that I had pre-written before posting. Also, because of numerous projects from the Kuroshitsuji fandom that I've been obsessing over for awhile. Nope, no procrastination or laziness fitting into this equation. Not at all BD However, because of my dedication to current projects as well as graduation looming just more than a month away, I'm going to have to take a break on this story for awhile :c I'm sorry that you guys have to hold out so long!

Anywho, this is probably my favorite chapter thus far. I really, REALLY love Shinigami-sama and my favorite things to write usually include his patronly interactions with Liz and Patti as well as his struggle to connect with Kid, his biological son. Between you and me, a lot of my own dad's personality goes into writing for Shinigami-sama, which is why he's such a fun character for me to write :3

This chapter is dedicated to dragonnova, because she rocks my stripey socks!


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